


Three's Company

by telenica1002



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ancient magic, Friends to Lovers, Minor Character Death, Multi, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Triad - Freeform, all people are equal ya know, and boy do i mean slooooooow, blood supremacy mentioned, but fuck that shit, fluffy shit, mentions of pregnancy in minor character, quarantine made me do it, school days, weasley family being wonderful and generous people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 42,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26313115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telenica1002/pseuds/telenica1002
Summary: “I had two brothers, twins, just like Fred and George.” Molly said as she continued to scrub at the plate in her hands, tear running down her cheek as she spoke.“And, your brothers were a… a triad.” The word felt heavy in Grace’s mouth.“Yes.”“And, are Fred and George a…?”“I believe so.”Molly turned over Grace’s so her palm was facing up. She ran her thumb across the twin heart lines, deeply etched in her skin, sweeping strongly upwards between her pointer and middle fingers.“Three souls intertwined, makes you luckier than most.”-------------------------Casual Weasley Twin soulmate au because life could use more Fred and George content.
Relationships: Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s), George Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Marlene McKinnon/Fabian Prewett/Gideon Prewett
Comments: 49
Kudos: 192





	1. Ollivander's

“All right you two,” Molly called to the two boys excitedly chattering between each other, “we’ve got to make this quick. Best we get back to Charlie as soon as possible, not that I don’t trust him to watch over Ron and you sister, just I don’t like leaving the at home by themselves.”

“Honestly mum, not like their gunna burn it all down.” grinned Fred as he turned around to see his exasperated mother.

“Yeah, it was only once, and it all stayed in the kitchen, though Errol’s feathers were singed for weeks.” Finished George.

“Honestly, both of you.” Molly quickened her pace, passing the two boys, as she rounded the corner to Flourish and Blotts. “If only your father hadn’t gotten called in today. Honestly, it’s as if no one else works in that department, always calling him no matter the time of day.” Molly sighed. “And we have to buy two copies of the standard book of spells after Charlie destroyed his, doing Merlin knows what; you’d think him being best friends with Hufflepuffs he’d not be so reckless.” The twins grinned at each other, well aware of Charlie’s antics with his friends at school; Charlie was far more a troublemaker then his prefect badge would indicate.

“Not to mention that you both are taller and thinner than Bill or Charlie, so new robes are in order. Oh, I wish your father could have come instead.” George’s face fell.

“Mum, Fred and I don’t really need new robes. We could always share.”

“Yeah, and I wouldn’t mind wearing Bill or Charlie’s. Don’t you know the oversized look is in?” Fred smiled, wrapping his arm around George’s shoulder, who grinned in return.

Their mother stopped walking and turned around; “Now look here you two, you are about to start your first year at Hogwarts and that’s a time for celebration, so of course you’re going to get some new robes and books; It’s what you both deserve.” Deciding that she had made her point, and that they had wasted too much time already, Molly nodded. “Come along, let’s not dawdle, we’ve got much to do.” The bell rang as she pulled open the door, and pushing both boys ahead of her, the trio entered the shoppe.

* * *

The sun was already starting to set as Molly and the boys made their way out of Madam Malkin’s. After being measured, poked with pins, and constantly reminded to stand still, both boys were tired and ready to go home.

“How much more mum?” Fred asked, peaking over the pile of books he carried. With the added cost of two school lists, Molly chose to take all of their purchases with them, rather than paying the extra to owl directly to the burrow.

“Just Ollivander’s.” she said, tucking her purse back into her robs and stretching out her parcel free arms. “Oh my,” she exclaimed seeing the sky. “Is it that late already? Let’s hurry up. I do hope your father is home.”

As Molly went to reach for the handle of Ollivander’s, the door swung open out walking a small girl clutching her new wand close to her chest. Behind her was a rather serious looking man with dark eyes and a stout white-haired woman. The girl looked over at the Weasleys, and narrowed her eyebrows in confusion at the sight of the twins. Before the boys could start up a conversation, she ushered the two inside. Watching as the family make their way down the alley, she waited until they had disappeared around a corner, then followed her sons inside.

Fred and George dropped their parcels on the floor by the door, and made their way to the counter where the old wizard stood.

“Molly Weasley! Some more of your brood I assume?”

“Hello Ollivander.” Molly smiled an easy smile. “Yes, this is Fred,” she claimed placing her hand on the shoulder of the twin to her right, “and the other is George.”

The boy on the right reached out his hand. “I’m George.”

Molly blanched. “Oh, are you?” Laughed Ollivander, his eyes shining. “So, I assume both of you are here for wands.” They nodded excitedly; this had been what they were most looking forward to. “I thought so.” Turning his back to the group, he summoned two boxes from the upper shelves, blowing on them to remove the years of dust. “Now these wands are made from the same oak tree, the same branch in fact, though different cores. This is dragon,” he said to the boy who introduced himself as George, “and this, this one is unicorn.”

Fred took his and eagerly flicked his hand, which caused wand to fly across the room and stick itself into the opposite wall, narrowly missing the top of Ollivander’s head. Shocked, George tentatively raised his, only for it to make a large cracking sound and for smoke to start coming from the tip. Ollivander snatched it away, muttering to himself, “not right at all.”

“I bet you two need wands with the same cores, yes, quite, the same cores, being twins and all.” Ollivander called as he made his way to the back of the store. Molly stiffened at his words, and felt a sense of unease come over her as he pulled out the two new wands. “Both dragon heartstrings, dogwood, for those of a playful nature. Good for the flamboyant spells.” He winked.

The boys grinned at each other and waved the wands, but nothing happen. Turning back to the old wizard, they both started to laugh, for now Ollivander was now sporting shoulder length bright red Weasley colored hair. Molly even found herself holding back a laugh; with that he looked as if he could be a part of the family tree.

“I’m not sure this is the right look for me.” He claimed, grabbing his own wand and transfiguring his hair back to its original state. “Though it does work for the both of you.” He took back the wands, and sighed. “I was quite sure about those two you know. However, even I am wrong sometimes.” Tapping his chin, he looked over at Molly, whose smile fell as she noticed him. “I don’t suppose? It could be, perhaps?” Ollivander reached under his desk and pulled out a single box. Lifting the lid, he removed two wands and held them up to the light. “Ebony.”, he said gesturing towards Fred. “And this one is Fir.” He claimed as he held the other towards George. “Both of dragon heartstring, made from a dragon that has created only two wands.” His eyes shifted back to Molly, and a sense of seriousness dipping into his voice. “Can’t bear to be separated, have to keep them in the same box.”

Still holding the wands just out of the two boys’ reach, he continued. “There was, is, however, a companion. A single wand whose core is made from the heartstrings of this dragon’s mate; just one.”

Carefully, Ollivander handed the two boys the wands, and warm gentle breeze blew through the shoppe. The twins were astonished to see as the wands’ tips lit up like firworks, shooting bright sparks of white and red that surrounded them both.

“Just like your brothers.” Molly felt a tear slip from her right eye, but quickly wiped it away. He was right, thought she didn’t want to believe it, but here it was, right before her. A magic she had first seen in her childhood, a magic she had last seen the day her brothers died.


	2. To School

“Did you see the popping pimple patch in the window at Zonko’s?” said Fred, dusting the ash off his sweater. The group had just flooed back to the burrow, and Molly was currently sat on the couch taking an inventory of their new school supplies. “Keeps growing till it explodes once you stick it one someone’s face. Reckon next time we’re there, we get some and put it on Charlie when he’s getting his beauty rest. Imagine he’d freak out when he wakes up, right Georgie?”

George nodded, but wasn’t really listening. Instead he was watching his mother, uncomfortable with how quiet she had been since leaving Ollivander’s.

“Is everything alright mum?” he asked.

“Quite alright dears.” She called, looking up. “Just tired, and in need of a good cup of tea. Why don’t you two head into the kitchen and have Charlie heat something up for you both” Seeming to accept her answer, George nodded and followed Fred towards the kitchen.

“Honestly, I think that sound brilliant mate.”

In anticipation of his wife and children arriving home, Arthur had set the kettle to boil, and had cast a warming charm on the hastily prepared dinner. While he was no Molly, Arthur was not unused to cooking, and in a pinch could make a mean meatball and spaghetti.

“Oh Arthur, thank you!” Molly sighed as he entered the room with a steaming hot cup and an orange biscuit. She breathed in the comforting aroma and leaned back into the soft sofa, allowing the pillows to surround her.

“Sorry I was called in Molly.” Arthur said, throwing his arm around the back of the couch. “Honestly those who do the raids should do the categorizing, but you know the ministry. Red tape everywhere.” Molly hummed along. “But Charlie seemed to handle things well enough. Errols still in one piece after all.” He chortled. Noticing that his humor didn’t seem to lighten his wife’s mood, he moved his hand and placed in on her back, rubbing comforting circles over the thin fabric of her printed dress. “All right there love? You’re rather quiet.”

“I’ve just been thinking a lot about Fabian and Gideon lately.” Arthur nodded; he knew that her brother’s deaths still sat heavy in her heart. When she didn’t continue, he hugged her tight and spoke.

“Is this about Fred and George?” Molly gripped her husband’s arm like were her only lifeline, feeling as if she was close to drowning in her own emotions. “They were brave men, and they died fighting for what they believed in, but that’s got nothing to do with our sons.” Molly sniffled and shifted away from her husband, wanting to look at him before she explained.

“They died because of their grief.” Arthur shook his head as she tightened her hold of her mug.

“Molly, it was war…” he stared but she quickly cut him off.

“Yes, it was war, but even if they had survived the battle, they still would have died, consumed by their grief for Marlene. When they found out she had been murdered, part of them died, the only thing keeping them going was their will to fight against You-Know-Who.” The couple sat in silence; Arthur recalled the dark circles beneath the twin’s eyes, their gaunt stature and pale skin in the weeks after Marlene’s death. He shuttered.

“What has this to do with Fred and George?” He laughed unhumorously. Molly looked up; eyes wet with unshed tears.

“Oh Arthur!” She cried throwing herself into his arms, the cup of tea tossed unceremoniously across the room, staining the rug below. He held her, muttering sweets nothings in her ear, all the while fearing for his two young boys who sat happily eating pasta in the kitchen, unaware of the danger they were in.

* * *

Arthur took the four boys to Kings Cross Station as Molly stayed at home with Ginny and Ron. It had been no small feat getting everyone organized this morning; Molly was in a state, Ron having developed a small fever overnight, and with Fred and George removing all of the yolks and whites from inside the egg shells, one last prank for their family to remember them by, breakfast was a disaster. The eggs were eventually found, and with the family fed, everyone headed on their way.

“All right lads, let’s go. Hurry up.” Arthur called as he led his children through the crowded station. With the entrance to the platform in sight, Charlie ran ahead and passed through the barrier. The twins came to a stop and glanced at each other.

“I supposed I should go first.” Said Fred.

“Why not me?” Asked George.

“Born first?” Fred called back as he ran towards the walled and disappeared.

“All right Georgie?” Arthur said as he looked down at the boy. George nodded and ran towards the barrier, followed closely by his father. Smoked engulfed him as he passed through, and made his way towards his brothers. Charlie was looking around, and having apparently spotted the one he was looking for turned around to his father.

“Dad, I see Penny. Gunna make my way over.” Charlie said pointing towards a blonde girl standing in a small group.

“Sure Charlie. Have a good year son.”

“Thanks dad.” Charlie yelled over the sound of the train, already making his way to his friends.

“Now boys,” getting the attention of Fred and George, Arthur attempted a stern voice, but his smile gave him away. “Don’t give your professors too much trouble. I know how you can be with the pranks, just try to be more careful. Don’t want any letters home from McGonagall in the first month telling me that you’re making a ruckus and that you’ve got yourselves into detention.”

“Got it.” Said Fred. “No making a ruckus during the first month.”

“Though we can’t promise the same after that.” Continued George. Sighing, Arthur ruffled Fred’s hair, and looked around.

“Looks like their boarding boys, best get on. Take care of your brothers Percy”

“Of course.” He nodded, puffing out his chest, feeling proud that his responsible nature was being acknowledged. The twins hugged their father, and following Percy, headed towards the train. They dropped off their trunks and made way to find an empty compartment.

“Hey,” George said stopping in front of a compartment. “Isn’t that the girl from Ollivander’s? The one who was leaving when we got there?”

“Looks like it. Might as well say hi.” Fred opened the door and stepped in. “Mind if we join you two?” The two occupants of the compartment looked up. Flashing a bright smile, the boy answered.

“Not at all. I’m Lee Jordan.” Extending out his hand, Fred shook it happily and sat down next to him.

“And this is Grace.” Lee said pointing towards the girl.

“We’re you the two outside of Ollivander’s? Could have sworn I’ve seen you before.” Fred and George nodded.

“Good to see you again. I’m George, and this here is my less handsome brother Fred.”

“Fred Weasley, at your service.” He said with a wink.

* * *

After devouring more candy then he had ever eaten, Lee leaned back, rubbing his stomach. He felt uncomfortably full, but quite please with himself.

“So what house are you hoping to be placed in?” he asked to the room.

“Gryffindor of course.” Fred popped a Bertie Bott's Bean in his mouth. “The rest of our family is, so why wouldn’t we be. Course…”

“Ravenclaw wouldn’t be terrible either.” George said finishing his brother’s thought. Lee hummed, agreeing with the twins.

“My mum was in Hufflepuff, so I suppose that wouldn’t be too bad.” He said, pulling on one of his dreadlocks.

“Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, anything’s better than Slytherin.” Said Fred searching for a more appetizing flavor than the rotten egg he had just had. Popping in a light orange one that he hoped was marmalade, Fred turned to Grace. “What about you?”

“Well, I…“

“Ugh!” interrupted Fred, spitting out his half eaten jelly bean. “Tripe.”

“Nasty.” Replied Lee.

“What house do you want Grace?” Asked George genuinely curious. She looked down at her hands, an unfamiliar sense of nervousness washing over her.

“Well, I suppose any house really. I don’t think it’s for me to guess.”

“Yeah,” Lee leaned forward, “but if you had to choose?”

“What about your parents?” asked George. “They’re magic, aren’t they?”

“What house were they in?” continued Fred, “Probably would like if you were the same. Know mum and dad would be chuffed if all of us ended up Gryffindor.” The three boys leaned in, eager to hear Grace’s answer. Feeling crowded and overwhelmed, she desperately wished for a hole to open up in the cushion beneath her and swallow her whole, but to her great disappointment, nothing happened.

As she opened her mouth to respond, a sharp knock came from their compartment door.

“Charlie!” greeted the twins. “Lee, Grace, this is our brother Charlie.”

“Nice to see you two have made friends.” Grinned Charlie. “We’re almost to the castle, just going around to make sure everyone has changed into their robes.” Eyeing the group in their everyday attire, he crossed his arms. “So, I suggest you all get on that.”

Charlie stood in the doorway, eyebrow raised, waiting for a response. The group nodded their heads, and Charlie seemingly please, closed the compartment door and headed on his way.

The group looked at each other and laughed moving to change into their robes as the train began its descent into the station.


	3. Sorting

Following McGonagall through the doors of the main hall, the first years looked around in amazement. Candles were floating all around, as a brilliant sunset of orange, pink, and purple lit up the magical ceiling. Elbowing Lee, Grace whispered, “Can you believe it?” pointing at the candy coloured sky. “It’s even more incredible than I imagined.”

“How do you think it does that?” He asked, equally transfixed.

“Magic I’d assume.” Lee stuck out his tongue in response. The group reached the end of the hall crowding around Professor McGonagall, and the leathery voice of the hat sang out.

In all honesty, Fred and George did not listen closely to the hat, their older brothers having already told them that the hat gave a history of the houses, and they felt no need to pay attention to something they already knew. Instead they excitedly whispered between themselves, commenting on the professors sitting at the large table in front of them.

“Must be Snape.” Fred said, pointing at a darkly dressed, depressed looking man. George nodded, their brothers' description of the potions professor had been vividly accurate.

“And with that,” McGonagall called, ending the boys’ conversation, “welcome students, new and old. Now, let us start the sorting ceremony.” The professor unfurled the lengthy parchment she pulled from her robe, and called the first name.

“Miles Bletchley.” A haughty looking young boy with golden cropped hair, pushed his way from the back of the group, and made his way towards McGonagall.

Fred turned his head to his brother, “Slytherin, I reckon.”

“No doubt.” Said Lee, leaning over George to respond. Unsurprisingly, the sorting hat did not take long to place the boy in Slytherin, and quickly moved on to the next. Eventually Lee was called, and at the sound of his name he looked up, wide-eyed and quickly made his way to the stool.  
Placing the hat on his head, McGonagall moved to stepped back, but no quicker than she had let go, the sorting hat shouted out Gryffindor. Lee jumped up, and smiling towards his friends still waiting to be sorted, he made his way over to the applauding Gryffindor table.

Another 10 minutes passed, the house tables nearly full, and all who remained to be sorted was Fred, George, and Grace.

“Fred Weasley.” McGonagall called out. Charlie who had been slowly zoning out, perked back up finally hearing his younger brother’s name called. Locking eyes with Percy across the table, the two smiled. Smirking at his twin, Fred felt the hat being placed on his head, and closed his eyes.

“Number four?” shouted the hat, startling Fred who almost fell off the stool. “No other choice than Gryffindor!” Charlie and Percy jumped to their feet, yelling and cheering for their brother. Throwing George a thumbs up, he ran towards the table and sat next to Lee who hugged him, grateful that they were in the same house.

“George Weasley.” At the sound of McGonagall’s voice George breathed in deep.

“Good luck.” Said Grace, a sad smile on her face.

“You too.” Watching McGonagall and eyeing the hat in her hand, George made his way to the stool.

“The other half! We can’t keep you two separated, now can we?” From the Gryffindor table, Fred locked eyes with his brother. “Gryffindor!” The whole Weasley clan jumped up and smothered George as he leapt off the stool, making his way to his family. When the noise from the Gryffindor table finally quieted down, McGonagall turned and looked at Grace, a soft look in her eyes.

“Graciela Zastra.” The hall was silent as Grace clenched her fists and made across the stone floor, footsteps echoing in the silence.

“Zastra?” Lee leaned across the table towards George. “Wasn’t Zastra one of You-Know-Who’s followers?” Fred wrinkled his eyebrows and turned around to look back at Grace.

“Lowrance and Dominque Zastra both were exonerated” whispered Percy. “They were under the Imperius Curse.”

“So they claim.” Huffed Charlie, crossing his arms, and leaning back to get a better look at the girl. He hadn’t thought much of her at first glance; she looked like an ordinary 11 year old girl, but now, he didn’t know what to think. Fred seemed to feel the same way, his face scrunched up. But George, Charlie couldn’t tell what George was thinking, his face blank as he watched the sorting hat being placed on Grace’s head.

“Zastra. Zastra.” The hat sang. Grace’s cheeks began to flush, and she willed herself not to look at any table, focusing instead at a spot on the floor. “For the past 600 years, I have placed every Zastra who has entered these halls into Slytherin. Your family is ambitious; they know what they want. As do you.” At that, she raised her head, and out of the corner of her eye, dared to look at the Gryffindor table. She saw Fred and George, both watching at her, unreadable expressions on their faces. She forced herself to look away, and staring straight ahead, accepted her fate.

“Gryffindor!”

Her head whipped towards Professor McGonagall who looked just as surprised as Grace felt. Cautiously lifting her arms, she took the hat off her head, slipped off the stool, and handed McGonagall the hat.

“Welcome to Gryffindor dear.” McGonagall gently took the hat, and Grace turned towards the table; the Gryffindors muttered amongst each other as they watched her make her way closer. Suddenly, George stood up and started clapping, and the rest of the table soon joined in, including a less than enthusiastic Charlie. Grinning, Grace ran the rest of the way to the table and hugged Fred and Lee, then made her way around to sit next to George.

“Knew we’d all be together.” George leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Just felt right.”

“I know what you mean.”

With Dumbledore’s start of term words, “I’d like some cheesecake for pudding”, the feast began, and the students stuffed themselves full with roast chicken, lamb, and fish, rosemary potatoes, mashed peas, pasties, all the good homecooked a kid could want. After the feast was over all of the first year Gryffindors followed Charlie to the common room, and slowly made their way upstairs to bed.

Charlie moved towards his younger brothers and their two friends, some of the only first years still left awake.

“Hey you four, time to get going to bed. You can all talk in the morning.”

“Suppose you’re right.” Said Lee, stretching and yawning.

“Hmm, I’m exhausted after everything today.” Agreed Grace. “Goodnight everyone.” Making her way towards the girls’ dormitory, she was stopped by George grabbing her and hugging her tight. Grace felt a warmth creep up her neck as she hugged back.

“Goodnight.” Said George, letting go. The four boys watched as Grace ascended up the staircase, then made their way up their own, too excited for tomorrow to even try to sleep.


	4. The Letter

_Dear M/Mme Zastra,_

_With the greatest honour, I am writing to inform you of your daughter’s sorting into the house of Gryffindor. Any communication from Hogwarts involving your daughter will come from me in the future. I look forward to watching Grace’s magic and personality develop for the next seven years._

_As her Head of House, should you have any questions, please do not hesitate to owl me._

_All the best,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

* * *

Gripping the letter tightly in her hand, Dominque Zastra crumpled up the parchment from Hogwarts. It was a disappointment, a familial legacy dying all because her daughter had to be placed in Gryffindor, though it was not as surprising as it should have been. The girl had always seemed out of place amongst her peers, never really fitting in with her family and their friends.

“I suppose it’s for the best.” Muttered Lowrance. He leaned against the large fireplace, head resting on his arm as the flames warmed his skin.

“For the best? This is an embarrassment. What am I to tell my mother? What will my family think?”

“The pride of house Black has been bruised before. And Cassiopeia will be fine.” He cut in.

“Her only child’s only child in Gryffindor. And the Zastra’s have never been place outside of Slytherin, save for your great-uncle.” She bit her lip, “It’s a shame to both our families, we’ll never be accepted again.”

A silence engulfed the room, only the soft flickering of the fireplace could be heard. Breathing out, Lowrance made his way to his wife and took the letter from her hands. He ran his fingers across the neatly scrawled name at the bottom.

He made his way back to the fireplace, “Love,” tearing the letter in two, he threw the two halves into the fire, watching as they turned to ash, “perhaps it's time to move on.”


	5. First Year, First Term

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> here is a longer chapter to make up for how short the previous one was. kiss*

George woke to the soft morning light creeping through the curtains of his bed. Fred, George, and Lee had stayed up late, much to the chagrin of their fellow roommate, Kenneth Towler, who was already proving to be one of their most annoying classmates. They played a game of exploding snaps that lasted until the wee hours of the morning, and that would have gone on longer, if Kenneth had not threatened to tell a prefect on them. Even though Fred and George liked their brother Charlie, they questioned whether he’d be so forgiving after he told them to go to bed in the first place, so the game was packed up, and the boys went to sleep.

“Oi, Georgie,” said Fred, ripping open the curtains. “Sleep much longer and you’ll miss breakfast.” Jumping from his bed, he joined the others in the bathroom and got ready, making their way to the great hall in record time.

Grace was already seated at the table, sipping a cup of very milky tea, talking to two other first years.

“Ladies.”

“Good morning Lee.” A chipper Grace responded. “Sleep well?”

He nodded. “Like a log, though not a big fan of my roommate.”

“Fred getting to you already?”

“Very funny.” Said Fred as the cut up a sausage and placed a piece in his mouth. “No, it that Kenney guy, bout as fun as a load of goblins.”

“He got mad at us for playing snaps last night. We asked him to join, but he refused.” George took a spot to the right of Grace. “Pass me a toast would ya?” Chewing the toast, he continued, “No respect really.”

“Mother didn’t raise him right.” Agreed Fred.

* * *

The first few weeks of school passed by quickly, and the six first year Gryffindors, barring Kenneth, formed a strong friendship. Angelina was a non-stop force of nature, and a not so quite supporter of the twin’s and Lee’s hijinks. Alicia was a bit more subdued, preferring to watch from the sidelines, but she was no less a part of the group for it. Fred, George, and Lee often slipped away from the crowd to do some sort of prank, and when questioned about it, the girls always had ready a cover story.

“Look whose gone and got themselves a detention.” Said Angelina looking up from her potions assignment, as the portrait hole swung open. The three boys had recently been caught after they had charmed Lucian Bole’s shoe to tie themselves up. The second year Slytherin fell flat on his face, causing him to break his nose, and had to be sent to the Hospital Wing. Unfortunately, his friend Peregrine had seen one of the twins cast it and told McGonagall.

“Eh, it’s just good old McGonagall, I’m sure detention won’t be too bad.” Smiled Fred, throwing himself on the couch.

“I’m not sure,” said Grace, placing down her quill. “After that stunt you pulled with Roger’s bag in Transfiguration, it’s unlikely she’s going to let you off.”

“We have Lee to thank for that one, turning the bag inside out and repacking it, brilliant!”

“Seems to me like brilliant is going to get you into dentation.”

George made his way over to Fred who was laying spread out on the couch. Pushing his legs off, he sat down, “What’s one detention in the grand scheme of things?”

“One of hundreds.” Muttered Alicia.

“Exactly! One day Flitch is going to catch you and then you’ll be sorry. He’ll make you do something like clean the floors with a toothbrush.” Lee grimaced.

“Or change Mrs. Norris’ litterbox.” Giggle Alicia. Fred and George looked at each other.

“That might just be my limit, Freddie.” The girls laughed at the look on the boys faces, and continued on their essays due the next day.

* * *

Fred and George made their way out of McGonagall’s detention, having bid Lee goodbye so that he could go to the library. The group had been made to sit in silence for the past two hours, and for the fidgety young boys, that had been close to torture. They hadn’t even been able to work on any homework, so they were now going to have to quickly do their charms work before the next period.

“Think Grace will let us copy her work? Flitwick loves her.”

“Probably if I ask her.”

“Why’s that?”

“Older and wiser George.”

“Yeah, suppose.” Replied George, knocking his elbow into his brother’s arm. “Respect for her elders and all that.”

“Oi, just because Grace likes me best…“

“Who do I like best?” Interrupted Grace. She had just come around the corner carrying two egg sandwiches wrapped in a small white cloth. “Brough you some food since you missed lunch.” The two boys blushed, but accepted the bundle, and tucked into their meals “How’d it go?”

“Easy as pie.” Fred said with a mouthful of bread, and George agreed. The trio continued to make their way down the corridor, discussing the assignment for charms, when they bumped into a group of older Slytherins, one who knocked Grace to the ground.

“Hey,” sputtered Fred, “what was that for?” George leaned over and help Grace get back to her feet. Before them were three members of the Slytherin Quidditch team: Terence Higgs, Gemma Farley, and Marcus Flint.

“Well, well, well,” laughed Flint, “if it isn’t the blood traitor trio, Weasleys and Zastra.”

“Bugger off Flint.” Said Grace, adjusting her jostled robes.

“You really are one of them now, huh. Do you have any idea how embarrassed your parents are?” Grace paled at the insinuation. Since the start of term she had only received one letter from her parents, a cold congratulations and warning not to ‘join the wrong crowd’. Only her father had signed the card, and her mother’s absent signature played on her mind. “My mum said your mums been too embarrassed to even show her face around town. I’m sure she knows that everyone thinks her child is pathetic” Her eyes began to well up with tears, and she reached out and tightened her grip on George’s sleeve. Noticing her tears, the twins spurred into action, George pulling Grace close and Fred moving to stand in front of the two of them.

“Watch it.” Glared Fred, poking Flint in the chest.

Flint just laughed. “Getting Weasleys to protect you, that’s just pathetic.” Flint moved forward, knocking Fred off balance. “Your pathetic, you little…”

“Flint.” Came a booming voice. Charlie was jogging down the corridor, glaring at the quidditch players, his voice reminding the twins of Molly when she was in mama-bear mode. “What’s a bunch of third year Slytherin doing here at this time? Shouldn’t you be heading to flying class?”

“Look, another Weasley.” Sneered Gemma, looking Charlie up and down.

“I’m sure everything is alright here, am I right?” Charlie locked eyes with Flint, as if begging him to start a fight. Flint’s mouth broke into a crooked smile, but he nodded.

“Everything’s fine prefect Charlie.” Throwing up his hands in mock surrender, Flint and his group started back down the hall, calling over his shoulder he continued. “See you on the pitch Weasley, I’ll be waiting.”

“What a fucking git.” Muttered Charlie, as he watched the group disappeared down the hallway. “Everything all right?” He asked looking between his two brothers; Grace’s face was still red with tears, the twins both looked furious and began to speak at the same time.

“Flint knocked her to the ground.”

“Called us all blood traitors.”

“Made her cry.”

“Talking about her family like that.”

Charlie cut them off, having trouble following their quick back and forth. “Hang on you two.” He lowered himself to Grace’s eye level.

“Are you okay? Seriously?”

She sniffled but nodded. “He only said some mean things. It’s not like his opinion really matters.”

“Quite right!” Charlie laughed. “Flint is insufferable, honestly they all are. Even Merula, though I suppose she’s kind of my friend, but that’s beside the point. Do you need anything?”

“I just want to go back to the common room.”

“Fred and George will take you, won’t they?”

“Course we will. Right Gracie?” Said Fred grabbing one of Grace’s hands, and throwing her a smile. Taking the other, George continued.

“We won’t let her out of our sight.” Charlie nodded and the group said their goodbyes. They made their way quietly through the castle, coming upon to the fat lady portrait, and giving the password. They entered and made their way to the bottom of the twisted staircase that lead to the girls’ dormitories. Grace squeezed the twins’ hands, and they both turned to look at her.

“You know who I like best?” She hesitated as the twins stood patiently. “Gred, and Forge.” Letting go of their hands, Grace leaned forward kissing George and then Fred on their checks, before running halfway up the staircase. With a blush on her face, she turned around and said thank you, before continuing her assent.

Fred and George stood staring at the now vacant staircase, their face’s reddening to match their hair.

“Still thinks she likes me more, ey Gred.” Grinned Fred.

“In your dreams, Forge.”


	6. A Brief Weasley Christmas

The Christmas Holiday came and went; Fred and George received a new set of sweaters, one a charming hunter green with a large F embroidered in the same burnt orange of the other. Fred had taken the orange sweater, despite claiming it clashed terribly with his hair, and proudly wore it around the burrow all break.

Over Boxing Day dinner, the twins had been interrogated about their first semester at school; the only information either Mr. or Mrs. Weasley had received regarding the twins had been McGonagall’s weekly letters, those that informed the couple of the boys' seemingly constant detentions and misbehaviors. After getting a good earful from Molly, they shared the more positive aspects of their first semester, their friends. And that mostly meant talking about Grace.

“She’s just great mum.” Claimed George, as he cut into the roast.

“Brilliant at charms. Flitwick says her wandwork is masterful.” Agreed Fred. He looked up at Charlie. “You like her, don’t you?”

Molly looked over to her second oldest, who was taking a moment to answer. He looked at the eager faces of his younger brothers, and nodded.

“Course I do.” He hesitated, remembering the altercation in the hallway. “But what about your other friends? That Lee fellow?”

“Lee’s great.” Agreed Fred. “Though he gets in trouble almost as much as we do.”

“No doubt because of you two.” Mumbled Percy. Hearing his brother’s comment, Ron laughed and Percy joined with a breathy huff.

“And Angelina and Alicia are nice too, but Angelina always is making fun of us, and Alicia won’t help us with our work even though she’s the best in all of our classes.”

“Well you know what they say,” pipped up Molly, “when a girl picks on you, that means she likes you.”

"Really?" asked Ginny, now finding interest in the conversation. Fred and George looked at each other; this was new information.

“I’d have to agree.” Nodded Arthur, making eye contact with his wife. “Your mother was quite a terror our first few years.”

“Arthur.” Molly chided, a blush reddening her cheeks and looked down to hide her face. “Eat your dinner before it gets cold.”

The family attempted to go back to eating, but a slight snicker from Charlie set the whole table into uproarious laughter.


	7. Don't Be Suspicious, Don't Be Suspicious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> early update! early update!

“Am I ever glad to see you two!” The minute the Weasley family passed through the platform barrier, they were accosted by annoyed Lee who ran up to the twins. “I’ve been stuck with Angelina for the past 15 minutes. Her mom had to work and left her with my mum, and I’ve had to listen to her go on and on about how annoying her break was because her muggle cousin ‘Tony wouldn’t share his muggle game player’, and that by not sharing it was inherently ‘sexist’.” Finally, out of breath, Lee stopped talking and took in the large family before him. “Oh, hello. I’m Lee.”

Accepting the outstretched hand, Mr. Weasley smiled, “You must be one of Fred and George’s friends.”

“Yes sir.” He leaned in close, keeping the older man’s hand still in his. “It’s hard work wrangling in these trouble makers, but I’m happy to do so.”

“From what I’ve heard, you’re a bit more of an accomplice than a deterrence.” Lee pulled back, slightly sheepish and shrugged his shoulders.

“What can I say, it’s hard work.”

* * *

“Either of you seen Grace or Alicia?” Asked Fred, peaking into crowded compartments as they made their way down the train. They had exchanged letter during the break, but after almost a month of not seeing their friends, they were anxious to be together again.

“Maybe they arrived here before us and already got on?” said Angelina pulling her heavy bag up on her shoulders. She had brought some of her muggle things to show Grace and Alicia; since both of them were purebloods they were lacking some serious knowledge about the muggle way of life, and Angelina was going to be the one to educate them.

George felt a wave of anxiety pass over him as they continued past full compartments, but had yet to find their friends. He and Fred quickened their pace, forcing the other two to jog in order to keep up.

“Come on Grace, I’m sure they’ll be here soon. And if they don’t find us, we’ll see them at school, it’s not like we are going to different places.” Laughed a familiar voice. They turned around, going back towards a compartment they had just passed, and peeked through the windows. Sure enough, there sat a pouting Grace and a sympathetic looking Alicia. Both of the girls’ heads turned towards the door as it was opened and a pair of red streaks flung themselves into the compartment and sat themselves on either side of Grace.

“Looks like we found them.” Angelina sat down and shoved her bag under the seat, making room for Lee. The three watched in silence as the others chatted happily amongst themselves, seemingly forgetting that anyone other than them was in the compartment. “Looks like we aren’t needed here.” She snorted; a bit peeved.

“I think it’s nice.”

“I agree with Angelina. Makes my teeth hurt.” Pouted Lee. He crossed his arms and leaned back, closing his eyes, he readied himself for the long and now boring train ride.

* * *

Footsteps echoed off the stone of the empty corridor as Grace made her way down to the bottom floor. She had received a note earlier at breakfast telling her that ‘her dear Gred and Forge, requested her presence by the statue of a wizard with an unfortunate number of boils, located somewhere in the Basement. After spending approximately three whole minutes looking for the unlucky wizard, Grace was ready to give up.

“Sir Nicholas?” Grace called as the ghost casually floated by.

“Ms. Zastra,” he turned, smiling brightly, “what’s a young Gryffindor doing down here at this hour? Not getting yourself into any trouble, are we?”

“I wasn’t planning on it. But, I was wondering if you’ve seen any other Gryffindors down here lately.” He tilted his head slightly, causing a wet squelching sound to happen as part of his neck disconnected from the other.

“You know, I did see the those two youngest Weasleys just moments ago. They’re around the corner, next to the statue of Quinten Boyel Harbsbreek, quite an appropriate name if you asked me.”

“Really,” she said excitedly, “oh, thank you. I’ve been looking all over for them.” Grace ran down the hallway, and waved her thanks as she rounded the corner. Spotting two tuffs of red hair, she slowed, and creeped up behind the statue. “Boo.”

“Merlin, Gracie. Trying to turn us into ghosts when we’ve invited you down here to join us out of the kindness of our hearts.” Said Fred, throwing his hand over his chest in feigned shock.

“And why exactly have you invited me here?”

“Payback of course.” Winked George.

“Payback? What have I done?”

“Not against you silly, for you.”

“We have it on good authority,” grinned Fred, “that Flint and his posse of prats come this way every night to head to their dormitory, in about,” he paused, for dramatic effect, “5 minutes.” Grace’s eyebrows shot up; what were these two planning on doing? “And over break we may have stocked up on Dungbombs.” A giggle escaped her lips, but she quickly threw her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. Reaching behind him, George pulled out a small sack, and opening it, revealing four Dungbombs, handing one to each of them.

“I’m going to set the one closest to the Slytherin common room entrance, Georgie will place one over there by that torch,” he pointed towards a stone pillar letting off a dim flicker of warm light halfway down the corridor, “And you’ll drop yours right there.” Grace followed the direction of his finger which pointed towards a small alcove.

“Press this to set it,” George leaned over to instruct, “but don’t press it until your about to set it down. Then run back and we’ll hide behind good old Boyle here.” Readily agreeing, the three split, going to their designated spots, and laid their traps for the unsuspecting Slytherins. Crouching back together behind the unfortunate statue, they waited; but not after long, heavy footsteps and loud voices were heard coming down the hall. Rounding the corner came Gemma and Terence, follow by Flint, who had a quaffle tucked under his left arm.

“Hufflepuffs got nothing on us this weekend.” Laughed the high pitch voice of Gemma. “I swear, every time I walk by that one chaser, she cowers in fear.”

“Better save her for last then, let her spend the whole match afraid of what you’re going to do.” Sniggered Flint as the group passed the statue, continuing down the hall. Crossing past the alcove, first bomb started smoking, and Fred elbowed George, excited that their plan had worked. Suddenly, all three bombs went off causing the older students to yell out in surprise and disgust.

“Oh Godric, what is that?” Yelled Gemma pinching her nose. Terence held his hand to his mouth as if trying to stop himself from vomiting right then and there. The three Gryffindors deciding that they had seen enough, and with the noxious fumes of the Dungbombs slowly making their way down the corridor, ran out behind the statue and away from the scene, laughing all the while. Suddenly, Grace came to a stop when she saw that the two twins before her were halted; Filch and his cat standing in their way, tisking as he watched them.

“Well, well, what do we have here. Three first year Gryffindors down in the dungeons for no reason, running away from a commotion.” He reached out and grabbed the upper arms of the two boys in front of him, and dragged them down the hallway, towards his office. George threw a look back at Grace, telling his to run away, but she shook her head and followed them. It was as much her fault as theirs, and she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she abandoned her friends now. Shoving Fred and George into his office, he slammed the door after Grace entered and sneered at the children before him. Mrs. Norris jumped off his shoulder, and landed on the desk, eyeing the three.

Fred looked around the cold and dark office; from the wall hung a freshly polished pair of shackles, and towers of precariously stacked boxes and cabinets lined the room. Noticing the label on one of the cabinets tucked in the corner, Fred elbowed his brother and pointed. Turing, George read the chicken scratched writing, _Confiscated and Highly Dangerous_ ; those were some of the twins’ favorite words. Slowly as not to alert Filch, George reached into his bag, and pulling out one last Dungbomb, pressed the button to prime it. Fred reached behind his brother, and grabbed the sleeve of Grace’s robe tightly, ready to pull her with them.

Foul smelling smoke erupted in the room causing Grace’s eyes to water, and Filch to call out cursing the Weasley boys, as she was yanked towards the wall by one of the twins. Quickly they unlocked the cabinet, and reaching inside to pull out as much as they could, shoved their findings into George’s bag. Filch was fanning his hand in front of his face, as if that simple movement would clear the air, and the trio ran past him escaping from his office, heading towards the staircase. They ran until they were in the safety of their common room, and plopped down on the thankfully empty couch, grateful to have escaped whatever dastardly punishment Filch had in mind.

McGonagall had approached the three of them the next morning at breakfast, and with a look of disappointment and drudgery, informed them that they had been found placing Dungboms in the Slytherin corridor and in Filch’s office and thus would be spending that Saturday with her in detention, and that their parents would be receiving a letter informing them of their delinquency.

“I always look forward to spending time with you professor.” Smiled a cheeky Fred as he, his brother, and Grace entered their Head of House’s office that sunny morning. McGonagall stood in front of her desk and gestured for the three to sit down, a stern look on her sharp features.

“I understand that you and your brother have zero regard for the rules, nor fear for their consequences, but I would have thought you two cared enough about Ms. Zastra not to drag her into your shenanigans.” The twins had the decency to look ashamed at that; George had tried to get Grace to run away, they would have taken the full blame if not for her refusal to leave them behind.

“But they deserved it.” Grace’s outburst surprised everyone in the room.

“And what exactly do you mean by that Ms. Zastra?”

“Well, um…”

George cut in. “Flint and his gang ran into us in the hallway, before Christmas break. They knocked Grace to the ground, and said terrible things about her and her family.” McGonagall sighed, leaning against her desk, and took in the group before her.

“And as valiant as your intentions may have been Mister Weasley, that is no reason to set off Dungbombs in the corridor where just anyone could have walked by.” George nodded, and lowered his head. “Ten points from Gryffindor,” Fred’s head shot up, “from each of you.”

“But professor!” Fred sputtered. She held up her hand.

“It is admirable that you wished to avenge the honour of your friend, but I must insist that if something like this is to occur again, come to me first and allow me to handle such matters appropriately.” Receiving agreement from the three before her, she moved to sit at her desk. “Please work on your assignments; you have 12 inches of parchment due for me tomorrow, and I doubt any of you have had a chance the write it yet.” Grace blushed but the two boys shrugged their shoulders; she was right, following Flint around the castle to plan the perfect prank had not allotted time for much else. Pulling their books out of their bags, they began to scratch away with the quills, writing on the topic animal to kitchen utensil transfiguration. McGonagall cleared her throat, and three sets eyes raised to look at her. Her smiled betrayed her annoyed tone, “Two points to Gryffindor, for the Weasleys’ uncommonly strong sense of loyalty.”

* * *

“So what all did we get?” Fred laid on his brother’s bed next to Lee, as he flipped through a quidditch magazine; the Montrose Magpies had recently recruited a new catcher, an American Quadpot player, a mister Michael Jordan, who wanted to try his hand at Quidditch.

“Don’t know how good he’ll be.” Lee had commented. “They’re not used to holding on the ball for a long time, since the quad is charmed to explode at any moment. He might just drop it halfway through the game because he thinks he hears a ticking sound coming from it.” Fred had to agree, the two games really didn’t translate. Lee had started a running list to count the newly acquired items and had been slowly adding checkmarks as George called out.

“You’ve got two Fanged Frisbees, one Nose-Biting Teacup, seven Hiccough Sweets, still think we should give one to Kenneth for his birthday next week, and one, two, three Chinese Fire Finger Traps.” Said Lee counting out his tallies.

“And this.” Said George pulling out an old blank piece of parchment. “What do you reckon it is?”

Fred rolled over, and tossed his magazine to the side, “Must be something important, or else Filch would have thrown it away, rather than put it in a cabinet labeled _Confiscated and Highly Dangerous.”_

“Perhaps there’s something hidden on it,” suggested Lee, “Like invisible ink?” Pointing his wand at the paper, George muttered _Revelio._ Slowly, writing appeared on the sheet, and the boys crowded around to read it.

_To the Messrs. Weasley and friend,_

_While we are grateful for your assistance in retrieving this parchment from Filch’s office, we must recommend that you keep your mischief managed, and solemnly swear to stay out of trouble, less you find yourself in detention once again._

_Sincerely,_

_Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs_

As Lee finished reading out the final line, the dark brown lettering began to fade away.

“Well isn’t that interesting.” Said Fred, puling the parchment from his brother’s hands and flipping it over to study the whole thing. Well into the night, the three boys tested different spells and parings of words, hoping they would stumble on the correct ones to reveal the secrets on the parchment. Occasionally it would flicker to life, as if trying to clue to them that they were close. Frustrated, Lee and Fred eventually gave up, and making their way to their own beds, called it a night. George carefully tucked the parchment under his mattress, and willed himself to sleep.

* * *

Angelina, Alicia, and Grace sat at a table in the common room, confusion on the two pureblood’s faces as Angelina showed off the My Little Pony toys that she had received for Christmas.

“They’re horses.” Said Grace, not quite following Angelina’s ramblings.

“Yes, but they’re all different, and they’ve got magical powers and different personalities, and all that. They’re very popular in the muggle world.”

“Do muggles believe that all horses are magic?” Asked a genuinely curious Alicia.

“No just certain ones, like ones that fly or unicorns. The others are just normal.”

“Hm,” she poked the purple and blue one in front of her, “and these are fun to play with?” Angelina sighed; this was not turning out had she had hoped.

“Well if you don’t like it, I can just put them away.”

“No, no, we love it, right Grace?”

“Yeah course, we just didn’t understand, but now we do.” Angelina smiled brightly and brushing her pony’s hair, continuing where she had left off.

“Fred!” yelled a voice from the top of the steps, and down ran a frantic George, waving a parchment above his head. He looked around the common room and found his brother sitting by the fire, playing Wizard’s Chess with Lee. “Fred, Lee, I think I’ve figured it out.” The two boys jumped up, abandoning their game, and ran towards George following him back up the staircase, whispering amongst themselves.

“What do you think that was about?” Alicia looked over to the now abandoned game of chess. Shrugging her shoulders, Angelina commented something about boys being boys, and preceded braid the now knot free hair of her toy pony.

George pointed his wand as the two boys came up behind him., “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” Slowly the parchment came to life. He read, “Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, are proud to present.”

“The Marauder’s Map.” Finished Fred. They pulled the large map open and gasped in shock. It was a map of the entire school; it showed everything, all the people and rooms that the three had never seen before.

“Bloody hell.” Said Lee. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” The boys watched as footsteps wandered around the castle. “What’s McGonagall doing in the Owlery at this time of night?”

“No clue.” Said George.

“Reckon you’re thinking what I’m thinking Gred.” Fred smirked, his mind racing with plans for future pranks. “We can see everything, the entire castle all at once. Imagine all the pranks we could do.” George was about to agree, when his name was called out.

“Quick, it’s Angelina.” Lee called running to close the door of their dormitory, just in case she tried to enter. “Quick, put it away.” George pointed his wand to the map and muttered, but the map didn’t disappear; fear washed over their faces. “You don’t know how to turn is off?” He practically yelled.

“How was I supposed to know that wasn’t going to work?” He bit back franticly.

“Maybe,” Fred pulled the map from his brother, “Mischief Managed.” The map closed itself up and the ink began to fade, as Angelina pushed the door open, causing Lee to stumble forward. Fred quickly hid the map behind his back, and stepped closer to George. “What?” He asked, attempting to act casual.

Angelina rolled her eyes as she took in the group before her, “Boys.” 


	8. A Bit Of Summer School Shopping

The rest of the year continued as one would expect; Fred and George found themselves in almost weekly detentions, with Lee often joining them, Angelina was constantly making fun of them for getting caught, and Alicia pitied them every once in a while, allowing them the copy her homework during their most dire of times. They had even slipped Kenneth a Hiccough sweet right before potions towards the end of the semester, much to Lee’s satisfaction; Snape had eventually gotten so annoyed at Kenneth’s constant interruptions that he removed him from class.

Grace was the only one who had been acting out of sorts; ever since their detention she had been going out of her way to avoid the two twins. Lee had suggested that she was mad that she had gotten pulled into their mess, but the both disagreed; she had been fine, and then one morning she refused to even look into their eyes. Fred and George felt a strange sense of loss without her companionship. As they wished each other a happy summer after getting off the train, George hugged her, and begged her to write them.

“Please, just write us, at least once.” She nodded, looking over her shoulder, trying to remove herself from his grasp. “Promise.” She looked up with a sad smile, and hugging him tightly back, she promised to try and write. Quickly, she slipped away and ran towards her waiting parents.

Fred and George had both owled their friends several letters throughout the summer, keeping in weekly correspondence with at least some member of their group. The twins, Angelina, and Lee had all discussed their intentions for quidditch; Lee was interested in the commentator’s job, seeing as the previous had just graduated, Angelina was making her father and brother practice with her for chaser, and the twins spent their summer training to try out for the two vacant beater spots. Charlie had even commented that the two had improved greatly, and while as Gryffindor captain he had to refrain from bias, as their brother he would be excited to welcome them onto the team the upcoming year. Alicia had mentioned that Angelina spent a week at her house, but other than that, enjoyed a rather quite summer with her grandparents in Denmark.

No one had heard from Grace, and despite her promise to owl the twins, they received no letters, and when they did send letters of their own, Errol returned with them, unread and unopened.

“Suppose she’s still mad at us?” Fred asked one afternoon as he and George helped their mother cut some vegetables for stew.

“Who’s mad at you two?” Molly flicked her want, setting the pot on the stove to boil. Fred sighed and shook his head.

“Gracie, she hasn’t responded to any of our owls all summer. They keep getting sent back.”

“It’s not like her.” Added George, recalling how sad she had looked when they separated on the platform. "I don't know how to explain it, but something feels off." Molly furrowed her eyebrows, but let out a small laugh as she slid the well chopped carrots and celery into the pot.

“I’m sure she’s not mad dears. People get busy, and you’ll see her soon enough at school.”

“Molly!” Arthur called, entering the room with a small Ron and Ginny trailing behind. “Book lists just came in.” He placed a kiss on his wife’s cheek and moved to sit next to Fred, pulling Ginny onto his lap.

“Finally.” She said wiping her hands on the front of her skirt, and tucking her wand into the band, called out for the two older boys. Moments later Percy and Charlie arrived in the kitchen, and the letters were passed out. “Suppose we should go shopping tomorrow then. Though I had planned to take Ginny and Ron over to Aunt Muriel’s for tea.”

“I’ve no problem taking them myself, make it a boys’ day, how about that lads?” Smiled Arthur. Seeing no resistance, he continued. “Good! So us lads, minus Ronald of course, will get your school supplies, and the rest of you can enjoy a lovely day with Auntie Muriel.”

“I don’t like Muriel.” Pouted Ron. “She’s rude, and she’s always telling me off.” Fred and George turned towards their little brother.

“Awh,” chimed Fred, “Ickle Ronnikins scared to visit old Auntie Muriel?”

“Munmmmmm.” Whined Ron.

“Fred, don’t tease your brother.” Molly levitated the chopped stew meat into the pot, and placed the lid over it.

“Oi, I’m Fred.” A petulant George called. Molly turned around a catching Arthur’s eye, and sighed.

“Sorry Fred.”

* * *

Arthur and the four boys made their way down Diagon Alley, and after making a brief stop to get some flame roasted nuts as a mid-morning snack, headed towards Flourish and Blotts.

“Now I don’t want to be here all day, so don’t go wandering off you two.” He looked pointedly towards the twins, making sure that they were listening.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“No place we’d rather be then right here with all of you.”

“Good! Percy, you stay with those two and help them collect their books. Charlie and I will go and stock up on some ingredients he needs for his N.E.W.T.S.” Percy nodded and began leading the twins into the shoppe when their father called out one last time. “Don’t give your brother a hard time while were gone, and maybe we could go to Zonko’s after.” The twins readily agreed to behave, seizing the opportunity to likely cause more havoc in the future.

Percy was a disaster to shop with; he was very attentive in watching over Fred and George, allowing them absolutely no time to escape and do as they please. He also was interested in flipping through non-school books that he would never buy, but still made the twins carry for him, just in case. However, Fred spotted his golden opportunity when he caught his brother watching a blonde girl from in between an empty space in a book shelf. Nodding to George to get ready, Fred reached out and crumpled up a piece of parchment, and threw it towards the unsuspecting girl.

Touching the spot where the paper had bounced off of her head, she turned around to see Fred pointing towards the half-hidden Percy.

“Percy!” she exclaimed. “Is that you hiding behind that bookcase.”

“PENEl-” he was cut off by hitting his head on a higher shelf of books, causing some to tumble to the floor, making the other patrons of the shop turn around to survey the commotion. “Ugh, Merlin, oh, sorry.” He sputtered and bent down to pick up the fallen merchandise. Penelope moved to join him, bending down to help clean up, and while the two were trapped in their own little world, Fred and George made their escape.

“Honestly, have you ever seen Percy so moon-eyed over a girl. If I’m ever like that, kill me George, seriously.” Whined Fred as they watched Percy attempt to flirt through the window of the store. The sun was shining brightly, a rarity for London, and George stretched his lanky arms. Over the summer, both boys had a growth spirt, Molly predicting that by the time they we’re full grown, they’d be the tallest in the family.

“Suppose that would still better than spending an afternoon with Auntie Muriel.” The two boys agreed, and moved to start their way down the alley, knowing that they would not be missed from the lovefest.

“Fred? George?” Called a voice from behind. The two turned around, and smiled broadly; before them was Grace, all be it a bit taller and with slightly shorter hair, but there she was. They both ran forward and pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m missed you both! How’s your summer been?” She said from inside their embrace, hugging back just as tightly.

“Fantastic.”

“Quite good really.”

“Been practicing a lot.”

“Charlie thinks we can make the team.”

“Not that there was any question.”

Grace pulled back and beamed at the pair. “Of course, there isn’t. Honestly, the Gryffindor team needs more Weasleys, I’ve been saying it all along.”

“Glad to know you’re still our number one supporter, Gracie.” Said George, sliding his hand down to hold her’s as Fred did the same.

“Though we wouldn’t know it from all the owls we got from you this summer.” Joked Fred. She paled and attempted to pull her hands away, embarrassed at being called out. Her parents had not been pleased with her placement in Gryffindor, they had made that abundantly clear during the Christmas Holiday, but after receiving a detention from Filtch in the second semester, a detention she got because of her association with Fred and George, her mother had barred her from any further contact with the Weasley twins.

As the two felt her try to slip away, they grasped her hands tighter, keeping her in place.

“We’re not mad really, are we Fred?”

“Course not.” He nodded. “We just wanted to talk to our friend during the summer is all.”

“So, what have you two been up to, other than quidditch?” She asked attempting to change the topic of conversation away from herself.

“Mostly housework and chores, mum seems to think that she needs to punish us for ‘the poor way we behaved at school.’” Mimed George.

“Though we did manage to transfigure a few of the gnomes in the front garden into really big spiders, so when Ron and us went out to de-gnome, he screamed like bloody murder.” Laughed Fred, though he quickly sobered. “But honestly, that just got us into more trouble, and then mum made us wash all the toilets by hand.”

“You think one day she might reform us?” George tilted his head to the side in mock guilt, but his eye still sparkled.

“Never. You two are as devious as it comes.”

“We prefer genius, but to each their own.” The trio settled into a comfortable silence, just happy to be together once again.

“Fred, George. What are the two of you doing out here?” Charlie trailed slightly behind his father, carrying two large bags filled with what looked like a number of dried bits of creature and plant. “Where’s Percy?” Arthur continued, looking around for the older boy. Finally, he noticed the additional person standing before him. “And who might you be?”

“Grace.”

“Ah, you’re the famous Grace. They boys have told us a lot about you.” Raising her eyebrows in surprise, she turned to look at the twins, who were not so subtly avoiding making eye contact. “Hope these two haven’t gotten you into too much trouble.” He laughed, reaching out to ruffle Fred’s hair, causing a substantial amount of floo powder and soot to fall out.

“I don’t mind it too much, though I’m not looking forward to any more detentions because of those two. My parents just about had a fit when Professor McGonagall owled to inform them that I had been caught setting off Dungbombs, and would be serving detention with her that Saturday.”

“Yes, best to avoid them when they are at their height of pranking.” Changing the subject, he looked behind her, and not seeing his answer he asked, “Where are your parents?”

“I kind of left my dad behind when I saw Fred and George.” She said sheepishly. “I’ll probably head back; he’s bound to worry.”

“No!” said Fred a little too loudly, ears reddening as Charlie turned to look at him.

“Fred’s right.” Agreed Arthur, in part to prevent his son further embarrassment. “We can’t have you wandering off by yourself. Stay with us until we find your father.” Grace made to disagree, wanting to leave the group before her father found her. She knew that the twins were not bothered by who her parents were; ‘you’re not your parents’ George had told her one late spring night after a fourth year Ravenclaw had called her a baby Death Eater, but both Charlie and Percy were still slightly cold towards her. Mr. Weasley had been so kind, and she feared that he would think less of her if he knew her family history.

“There you are.” Grace was turned around to be drawn into a hug by her relieved father. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? What on earth possessed you to wander off on you own?” He pulled back to look into her eyes, and as he did, realized that they were not alone. A cold mask descended, and he greeted the man before him.

“Weasley.” Arthur’s eyes narrowed as he took in the two before him. Their resemblance as father and daughter was undeniable; the same dark eyes and sharp shoulders, though while Lowrance’s mouth seemed to settle into a perpetual frown, the right side of Grace’s lips quirked up into a Cheshire Cat like grin.

“Zastra.” Arthur pulled his two younger boys closer to him, creating a tense separation between the two families. At that moment, the bell on the door of Flourish and Blotts rung, and a flustered Percy emerged, carrying a large stack of books. He opened his mouth to complain; the twins had left him alone in the store to collect all of their books, and the weight of them was starting to tire out his arms, but noticing his father’s ridged posture, said nothing.

“And there’s another one.” Mocked Zastra, taking in the large soot covered family.

“Dad, these are some of my friends I’ve told you about, Fred and George.” Lowrance grunted in response. Yes, Grace had spent most of the summer, effectively gushing about all of her friends.

Arthur recovered his manners first, and addressed the man before him saying, “Didn’t know my sons had any friends in Slytherin, good to have cross house friendships.” Lowrance just narrowed his eyes as Grace tilted her head in confusion. Attempting to salvage the conversation, he continued, “From what my boys had told me, I supposed that Grace was in Gryffindor as well, but it was a bit silly of me to have assumed.” He laughed nervously while adjusting the collar of his robe.

“Narrow-minded perhaps,” answered Lowrance coldly, looking over the two identical boys, before turning back to Arthur, “but not entirely inaccurate. Graciela was sorted into Gryffindor, along with your, children.” Arthur blinked in surprise, but quickly composed himself.

He turned to look once more at Grace, and lowered himself to her level.

“Well, good for you.” He complemented, causing her to blush in return. “I know my boys are very grateful for your friendship.” Lowrance placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder and squeezed gently, and she looked up to see his eyes still fixed on Mr. Weasley.

“For better or perhaps worse, Hogwarts is where one tends to make lasting relationships.” Arthur slowly stood back to his full height, puffing out his chest as if preparing for a fight; his fatherly instincts kicked in, ready to protect his children from any insults that should come their way. But none came.

“I suppose, Arthur,” he took one last glance at the gaggle of Weasleys before him; the eldest’s face mirroring his father’s expression, and on the other three, a mix of embarrassment and anger, “she could have chosen worse.” Yes, he thought as he looked back down at his daughter, she could have chosen worse; he and the Weasleys were on opposing sides, due to the ignorance and blind hatred he held in his youth, but his daughter, she wasn’t him, she was better. 

He glanced back at the family before him, now far more relaxed than before, all be it a bit perplexed.

“Come on dear, we’ll be late for your fitting appointment if we don’t go now.” Nodding his goodbye to Arthur, he turned with a flourish of his cloak, and started down the cobblestone path. Grace reached out, grabbing each twin by the hand, and gave an apologetic smile.

“I’ll see you at school.” Squeezing their hands once more, she let them go, and ran to catch up to her father, who once she was at his side, threw his arm around her shoulder, tucked her against his body, and placed a gentle kiss to her head.

* * *

After all the children had long gone to bed, Arthur and Molly sat on their small patchwork couch sharing a half bottle of Frewisky: between the heat from the fireplace and the alcohol, Molly’s cheeks flushed as she leaned in close to her husband and breathed in deeply. Arthur sighed and pulled his wife closer, causing her to snuggle up and place a soft kiss against his neck. Groaning, he whispered.

“Mollywobbles.”

“Hm?” she asked, continuing to place feather light kisses on his neck.

“Do you remember the family you saw outside of Ollivander’s, when you took the twins to get their wands?” She pulled back, furrowing her brows, and hummed again this time out of curiosity. “I saw them Molly. Fred and George wanted to introduce me to their friend; It’s Zastra’s daughter.” She leaned back further, resting against the arm of the couch and pursed her lips. “It could be nothing, Molly, just friendship.”

Looking away, Molly watched the flickering of the fireplace; Arthur could be right, it could just be friendship, but fate was not always that kind. Snuggling once more back into her husband’s arms, her mind raced, thinking of the two twins tucked snugly in their beds.


	9. Dominque At The Station

Grace and her mother were the first of her friends to arrive to Platform 9 ¾ that foggy September morning. She had been eager to leave and get to the train as quickly as possible; after running into the twins the month earlier, all she could think about was seeing them again.

“Stop bouncing like that.” Snapped her mother, pressing her pointer and middle fingers against her temple. “You’re making my head hurt with all that fidgeting.” Grace couldn’t help it, her excitement growing with every tick of the clock; but all the same she stopped, if only to avoid the wrath of her mother. All summer Dominque had been in a sour mood, frequently snapping at both her daughter and husband. Unsurprisingly, she had banned Grace from receiving or sending any owles to her friends as punishment for her poor behavior during the school year, and practically forced Grace to remain at home, save for the few familial obligations that came up.

Thankfully, Lowrance had not told his wife what had occurred at Diagon Alley; the fact that she had wandered off was bad enough, but she feared to see how her mother would react is she had realized her daughter made direct contact with the Weasley twins. Grace had hoped that her father would be the one to take her to the station this morning, but he found himself called away last minute, forcing her mother, who was currently suffering from a headache, to accompany her.

Walking out of a cloud of heavy smoke, Grace immediately recognized the pack of redheads loudly talking amongst themselves. As if noticing they were being watched, the twins’ heads perked up, and catching Grace’s eyes, smiled bright and began to call out. Hearing her sons’ exclamation, Molly followed their line of vision to see a small girl no more than 15 feet away. She moved to make her way forward, smiling happily at Fred and George, but was quickly pulled back by a tight and painful grip on her arm. Yelling out in pain, Grace turned around and tried to peel her mother’s hand off her arm; she only held on tighter, long nails digging into the sensitive skin.

“Where do you think you are going?” She hissed in her daughter’s ear.

“My friends.” Grace started, still grappling with her mother’s hand.

“Yes, I am well aware who they are, what I asked is where do you think you are going?” Molly watched the scene, disgust and pity washed over her; from Fred and George, she felt a wave of anger and protective instincts radiate off of them. Nodding to each other, the boys abandoned their trunks and quickly made their way down the platform, the rest of the Weasley family not far behind.

“You’re hurting her.” Yelled one of her children; George she assumed, from the way his voice broke. The other reached out, trying to pull Grace towards him.

“Let her go.” Looking up, Dominque glared at the twins. Noticing that other families had started paying attention, she dropped hold of her daughter’s arm and flexed her hand; it had grown numb from how tightly she had gripped. With a huff, she crossed her arms addressing the young boy who now was holding Grace’s hand.

“Well, aren’t you just a knight in shining armour.” She mocked. Pulling Grace closer to him, Fred settled to her left, and George joined on her right, glaring at the woman before them. She looked between the two identical boys and scowled, “You really ought to keep a better hold on your children Molly,” she looked up, “less they find themselves in a dangerous situation.”

“Are you threatening my children Dominque?” Molly took a step forward, pulling the three children in front of her closer. Despite both women’s small stature, they were a frightening force to behold; Molly’s cheeks as red as her hair with anger, and Dominque’s eyes as cold as the white of hers. The whistle of the train pulled the women from their standoff, and Dominque stepped back, acquiescing for now.

“Graciela, I will see you at Christmas.” With one last look at her daughter, Dominque turned on her heal and marched towards the bricked exit. Once she had passed through the barrier, Grace let out a sigh of relief, and leaned into Fred.

“Well,” said Arthur, attempting to ease the tension, “wasn’t that interesting?” His comment was met with a mixture of glares and forced smiles from the faces of his family. Ignoring her husband, Molly began shooing the children towards the train, claiming that it wasn’t going to wait for them just because they felt like dawdling. Charlie and Percy entered the train, splitting off in separate directions and Fred and George followed. As the twins made their way up the steps, Grace turned around to the remaining Weasleys.

“I am sorry about all of that Mrs. Weasley. I suppose she just, gets mad sometimes.” Grace looked sheepishly between the two elder Weasleys, hoping they understood.

“There is no reason to apologize, dear. I am just glad the boys were there for you.” She paused for a moment, thinking back to the conversation she and Arthur had just a month ago; it was clear the boys both cared deeply for the girl before her, their willingness to protect her obvious. “Should you need anything,” Molly stressed the word, “don’t hesitate to owl.” Blushing, Grace turned around to look at the twins standing on the steps behind her; they were concerned when she didn’t board immediately after them, and turned back to check on her. Giggling, she nodded and boarded the train, happily chatting with her two boys.

On the platform, Arthur held his wife’s hand, a single tear slipping down her cheek as they waved their children goodbye.


	10. The Second Years Are Taking Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thank you for being so patient with me! I've just completed my first ever midterms of law school, and i really needed to take the time off to study. I hope to be posting the christmas break chapter before the end of the week. kisses

The group of second year Gryffindors made their way to the quidditch pitch as Angelina, Fred, and George excitedly chattered amongst themselves. Alicia had brought a notebook with her, presumably to jot down her observations of the players’ skills, having mentioned that she was hoping to learn more about the logistical side of the game, that would in the future, help her become a better player herself.

“McGonagall says that if I behave and refrain from getting into any trouble, that I might have a shot at the commentator job.” Lee happily announced as he pulled his scarf tightly around his neck; it was cold, not uncommon for Scotland this time of year, but Lee insisted that he could not risk getting sick with his career on the line.

“Best stop hanging out with those then.” Said Kenneth, gesturing towards the twins. Despite his dislike for his fellow Gryffindors, Kenneth had an affinity for quidditch that could rival any of his classmates. He had surprised the group when he joined them in their march to the pitch after breakfast, but since Fred and George were more focused on try-outs then harassing Kenneth, he was welcomed, all be it coldly. Choosing to ignore Kenneth, Lee continued.

“Imagine it, the Weasley twins, beaters extraordinaire, Angelina, top scorer, and me, the voice of it all.” Alicia giggled.

“And us three,” Grace threw her arms around Alicia and Kenneth, “cheering from the sidelines.”

“Until next year.” Piped up Alicia. “When I join Angelina as chaser.”

“You’d leave me all by myself with Kenneth?” Alicia just shrugged.

After being shooed off the pitch by a stressed-out Charlie, the four climbed the steep steps to the top of the stands excited to watch their friends try out.

“Look at Fred and George go; that fifth years got nothing on them!” Said Grace excitedly as she leaned against the railing.

“They are quite good.” Admitted a disgruntled Kenneth who stood to her left, equally as impressed by the twins’ skills.

“When they said they spent their summer practicing quidditch they weren’t lying.” Nodded Lee. “No doubt they’ll get the spots, just look at George’s aim.” Grace had to agree; despite being the gentler of the two, George was a ferocious beater with a good arm, as well as an exceptional flyer. Glancing over to Charlie who was casually perched on his broom, Grace saw the flickers of pride on his face as he watched his brothers play. Angelina was impressive in her own right; she kept up with the older chasers and even scored two goals on Oliver, who did his best to hide his surprise.

* * *

“He’s so cute,” gushed Angelina as she snuck glances all throughout dinner at the Gryffindor keeper: the three girls had to admit that he was quite dashing, no one could deny the attractive quality of Scottish Brogue, “and now, I get to spend three days a week with him.”

“And Fred and George.” Alicia reminded her. Angelina just grunted in response and returned back to sneaking glances at Oliver, hoping that he would turn to look. Grace giggled at her silly friend, and turning away, caught George’s eye and smiled.

“You really were amazing.” He blushed slightly, and looked down into his drink.

“Yeah, um, thanks.” No thinking much of his slightly strange behavior, Grace turned away and started to ask Alicia about the notes she had taken, when George spoke back up. “It helped you know. Knowing that you were there.” Grace blinked, now herself slightly embarrassed.

“Well, we were all there, for all three of you.”

“Yeah, but it was different.” He paused, as if trying to find the right words; George himself didn’t quite understand what he meant. As he was flying, it was almost as if he could feel Grace with him; her support and well wishes seemed to flow through him. “I could feel you.” He muttered just under his breath, hoping that Grace couldn’t quite catch what he admitted. He cleared his throat and spoke again. “Just knowing that you were there was nice.”

“I’ll always be there for you George.” They settled into a peaceful silence, which was broken as quickly as it had come, by an exuberant Lee jumping up to stand on the bench.

“Well, here’s to the second year Gryffindors,” said Lee raising his goblet, “taking over the Quidditch pitch on spot at a time!”

“Here, here.” Chimed the twins as the rest of them downed their pumpkin juice.

Watching the second years with amused looks on their faces, Oliver and Charlie just laughed at their antics.

“Not that I’m questioning you Charlie, but you reckon it’s a good idea to have 3 second years on the team?” asked Naomi, a sixth year chaser. While she thought that all three of the new players were talented and definitely deserved their spots, she was a little apprehensive, and as she eyed the twins, she feared they might be just as unruly on the field as they were off it.

“Fred and George are fantastic, especially compared to Eliott.” Answered Oliver; Eliott, the fifth year who had also tried out for one of the open beater spots, was arrogant and a slower flyer than both the twins.

“And I’m sure Angelina will keep them in line.” Said Charlie nodding towards Angelina who had just smacked Fred’s hand as he tried to steal a drumstick off of Alicia’s plate. Naomi sighed, but agreed; at least it would be an interesting season.

“Well, here’s to the future of the Gryffindor team!”

* * *

Lee quickly closed the door behind him as entered the second-year boy’s dormitory; he had to make sure anyone walking by who could potentially get a glimpse through the closing door, was unsuspecting of the mischief that was going on. Fred and George were sat on the floor, meticulously pouring a slimy green liquid into a few smaller vials.

“What’s that smell?” Lee made his way into the room, and sitting on the ground in front of the twins, leaned forward. “Ugh, that smells terrible!” He cried, flinging his body back and bringing his hand up to cover his nose.

“Wear this.” Said a nasally George as he reached out and handed his friend a pair of nose pinchers.

“Doesn’t fully block out the smell,” shrugged Fred, “but it’s better than nothing.” Lee eagerly put the pinchers on, grateful for the small plastic tool. Leaning forward once again, Lee counted 7 filled small vials, and 4 more empty ones.

“It’s a stinkbomb.” Boasted Fred. “Our very own invention.”

“Ten times more deadly than any Dungbomb you can buy from Zonko’s.”

“Just throw it on the ground, then bam!”

“The foulest smelling air you could imagine, right at your fingertips.”

“For half the price of a typical Dungbomb, even easier to hid and use.”

“Hey, you don’t need to sell me on it.” Said Lee, holding his hands up in mock defense. “I’ve smelt it; I believe you.” The twins shared a large smile and went back to work, slowly pouring the liquid in. “So, what’s the plan for it? Who we gunna use it on?”

“No one really, except for this one.” Fred held up the last vial, shaking it slightly so the slimy green liquid could settle. “This one’s for demo. You see, the two of us were thinking, it’s a shame that us second years, and those poor firsties, haven’t got a chance to visit Hogsmeade yet.”

“A real shame.” Nodded Lee.

George continued on, explaining to Lee that they had seen a major gap in the market, and realized that they could profit. And with the help of the map, they could find a place to set up shoppe and sell their creations, and never get caught. “Just little things for now,” he assured, “like these stinkbombs and sweets, stuff kids want but can’t get.” Telling the twins that he thought their idea was brilliant, the boys fell back into planning, trying to locate the best place to set up their shoppe.

* * *

Fall came and went without much acknowledgement; quidditch games were played, Gryffindor having had quite a good season so far and well in the running for the cup, and other than Snape’s outburst mid-October when he discovered his entire storage room had been re-arranged, the labels carefully placed to spell out “Snape Sucks” over and over, the news to which Fred and George seemed far less than shocked, things were peaceful. Now the castle and its grounds were covered by a thick blanket of shimmering white snow, and as the group of Gryffindors made their way down the empty corridor, they walked quickly, motivated by the cold to reach their destination.

“Tell me again why I agreed to come with you two to some undisclosed location this late at night.” Huffed Grace as she attempted to prevent her teeth from chattering, the cold from the outside felt as if it were reaching deep into her bones.

“Because it’s worth it.” Claimed Fred, pulling the cold girl closer to him. Her faced heated up, whether from the increased warmth or the close proximity of her friend, she couldn’t be sure.

“Besides, were almost there.” Continued George, snuggling up close as well. “And you love an adventure just as well as the rest of us.” Grace nodded, and pulled both boys closer to her, relishing their warmth. Eventually they came to a halt, stopping before a painting of a small silver bell sitting on a table.

“Here we are.” The boys let go of her arms and grinned, quite pleased with her apparent confusion. Crossing her arms, she huffed and took a closer look at the picture; it was no larger than her hand, and it seemed impractical that something interesting could be hidden behind the minuscule painting.

“Is this some sort of prank?”

“You wound me Gracie, you think we’d prank you?”

“If it suited you, no doubt.” The two boys thought it over; they might be willing to incur her wrath if they thought of something really clever, but seeing as they had yet to think of such a thing, they shook their heads disagreement.

“Never.”

“You’d get mad.”

“Then more than likely get back at us tenfold.” Seeming to be please with their answer, Grace nodded and looked back at the picture, irritably tapping her foot.

“So, are you going to show me or what?”

“Impatient, isn’t she Georgie?”

“Incredibly.” As another cold breeze passed through the corridor, the three shivered, and George decided to give up his teasing, knowing that where they were headed was a fair bit warmer. Walking right up to the painting, George whispered to it, “tintinnabulation”, keeping his eyes on Fred and Grace all the while. The picture began to emanate a soft ringing noise, and George took a step back to get a better view. As the ringing grew louder, the painting itself also grew, eventually growing larger than the three kids. Fred and George moved forward, and stepped into the frame, the painting itself having disappeared. Grace stood stunned observing the strange magic, then quietly followed, watching as the entrance shrunk behind her.

She followed a soft glowing light and the heavy footsteps of Fred and George until she stepped out into a small room. The ceiling was high, but draped from it were multicolored clothes that shimmered in the soft light. The walls were the traditional stone of the castle, but here and there a few were painted a garish yellow or green. As she followed the walls with her eyes, she spotted a tall wooden cabinet and a high table, probably tall enough to come to her shoulders. Finally, she saw a small fireplace sat in the far end of the room, and in front of it were Fred and George, leaning against the single couch.

“What is this place.” The awe was written all over her face, as she spun around, taking everything in.

“A room.” Answered Fred cheekily.

“You know what I mean. How did you find this?”

“Stumbled upon it.”

George agreed, “Quite a lucky find.”

“No one’s that lucky.” Grace made her way over to the couch and plopped down. It was a soft kind of leather, the kind that had been worn away by years of use, so unlike the stiff furniture of her home. “Well no matter how you found it, I love it.”

“Good, because we found it for you.”

“For me?”

“Well, for all of us. We’re not completely un-selfish.” Admitted Fred, sitting down on her right and throwing a lanky arm across the back of the couch. “Need a place all our own, to do mischief and what not.” As the boys explained their idea to use the space to create their own nefarious inventions, the trio settled into the comfortable couch. Time slowly passed by as the three talked, enjoying the heat of the fireplace on their cold skin. George had taken up residence on Grace’s shoulder, his hair tickling her neck, as Fred snored lightly in her lap.

“Something about this just feels right, the three of us.” She said to the quiet of the room. It wasn’t something that she could easily explain, the comfort she felt with the two Weasley twins. “Like it was always meant to be.” No answer came, save for the crackling of the fireplace, but as she slowly closed her eyes, she could have sworn she saw Fred smile.


	11. Paris For Christmas

Landing roughly on the cold stone floor of the Paris Ministry, Grace almost fell forward, her legs unsteady from the nauseating portkey travel. Finding her balance, she adjusted her tousled hair, and turned to see her parents no worse for wear. Her mother wore a tight dark green dress and had pinned her hair up with a Zastra family heirloom, a small dragon with rubies for eyes. Her father’s dark suit and velvet lined cape made them look quite the intimidating pair. Straightening his back, Lowrance handed the tin snuffbox to a ministry worker as they made their way out into the chilly Paris air.

They walked a few blocks to find the apparition point; magic Paris was relatively strict when it came to where one could use magic, and Grace lamented the salt that was slowly sticking to her black patent leather Mary Janes. She was hoping to make a good first impression, and with her hair now a disaster from the portkey, her salt covered shoes were not exactly helping.

After Lowrance had graduated from Hogwarts and had taken up his job at the ministry, his parents had moved to Paris, where his mother had grown up. Grace had been told that Cynebald and Isabeau were not fond of England, nor the British Ministry’s politics, and refused to ever make their way back to the British Isles. So, for the first 12 years of her life, Grace had never met her grandparents, but now as they apparated landing before a crisp white town house, she would.

Opening the front door, Grace was greeted by a wet kiss on her cheek as her grandmother Isabeau drew her into a suffocating hug. Pulling away, she wiped at the stained red pigment from her lipstick and smiled.

“Are you not just beautiful. Lowrance dear, how you have kept her away for such a long time, I will never understand.”

“Forgive me mother,” Lowrance slipped off his heavy cape and handed it to the maid before she quickly slunk back into the shadows, “it was never my intention.” They made their way into the main parlor, a large white tree tastefully decorated in green glass bulbs sat in the corner, but as Grace looked around the large room, she noticed that there were no other inclinations of the holiday.

“I suppose she is a pretty little thing.” Came a gruff voice from behind, causing her to turn; before her stood Cynebald, tall and imposing, even while resting some of his weight on a gilded cane. He had a cold kind of beauty; the trademark Zastra eyes, dark and endless, and a noticeable lack of smile lines despite his advanced years. Grace felt a chill run down her spine as he looked her over. “How is she in school though?”

Dominque sniggered as she plucked a glass of red wine from the floating silver tray, and catching her husband’s glare, sipped at her drink.

“She is quite good.” Cut Lowrance, taking a seat on the baroque accent chair, hoping his father would stop his line of questioning.

“Quite good means nothing.”

“I’m third in my year. Sir.” Grace added as she sat next to her mother, nervously swinging her legs. Growing annoyed with the movement, Dominque placed her hand on her daughter’s leg, squeezing until she stopped.

“You father was first in his year.” Lowrance looked up to see his mother, slight disappointment on her face as she regarded his daughter. Feeling the need to stand up for his child, Lowrance laughed.

“Children were far less ambitions in my time; all one had to do was show up to class to be number one.” 

Dinner was a quiet affair; the excitement of the early evening had settled into a stale discomfort as Cynebald and Isabeau questioned Grace about everything. Dominque was well into her fourth glass of wine, and was watching the interrogation with jovial eyes.

“And tell me Graciela, do you find the common room uncommonly cold? I remember in my time, we girls would often be casting warming charms even while wearing our sweaters.” Lowrance coughed into his drink, and looked up wide eyed; of all the things he had neglected to tell his parents about, he could not believe that his child’s placement into a house other than Slytherin would forget him. If Grace sensed her father’s shock, she didn’t let it show.

“Oh, I’m not in Slytherin.” She responded genuinely, pushing the remaining peas around her plate. Cynebald’s face grew even sterner, if it could be believed, and Isabeau tilted her head, thinking she had heard her granddaughter incorrectly.

“Whatever do you mean dear? Not in Slytherin?” Suddenly, Grace realized that she had said something wrong, and placing her fork down on her plate, looked towards her father. She began to speak, but her father cut her off.

“Graciela was not placed into Slytherin.” He said avoiding eye contact with his father. “She was placed into Gryffindor.” The room was still as they took in Lowrance’s words.

With an unexpected amount of spry, Cynebald shot up and slammed his hands on the table. “This is unacceptable. A shame on our family.” Mirroring his father’s energy, Lowrance also rose.

“What does it matter what house she’s in?”

“What does it matter? You fool. She is a Zastra, the last one, our legacy lies on her shoulders. But now you tell me she’s been placed in Gryffindor; her ability to secure herself a proper future is lost forever.”

“How terrible.” Added Isabeau, looking over her granddaughter with sad eyes. “Would have been better she’d been born a squib like Edwyn rather than be a Gryffindor.”

“You speak the truth, my dear.” Agreed Cynebald, glaring at the scared girl. “At least we know how to deal with squibs in our family.” Lowrance pulled his wand out of his jacket pocket, and pointed the tip at his father.

“Are you threatening my child?” He bit through gritted teeth. His mother had the dignity to blanch at the accusation, but his father just smirked and held up his hands. “We are leaving. Dominque, get up.” Disappointed that her dinner and show was over, Dominque stood, taking her glass of wine with her, and left the dining room. Keeping his wand pointed towards his parents, he helped Grace stand up, and walked with her towards the door. Snatching his coat from the trembling maid, he flicked his wand at the large black door, opening it to the blistering cold. They quickly made their way down the short path, Lowrance keeping his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder, and with a crack, disappeared.


	12. Quidditch Is A Dangerous Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> woof, that was a long chapter. but here's the end of year two! thanks for sticking with the story so far.  
> also, Lucky is my little character from Hogwarts Mystery and I've just reached year four and I finally get to meet Charlie.  
> i'm absolutely chuffed if i'm being honest.

The Library was relatively empty, most students at their respective clubs and other extracurricular activities. Lee spotted Grace, his only friend who wasn’t currently preoccupied with frivolous activities, and plopped himself down next to her. When she failed to register his presence, he dramatically sighed, hoping that she would ask him what was wrong. He still got no response.

Lee sighed once more, but she hardly heard him; she was so engrossed in reading her muggle novel, the one that Angelina had given her for Christmas, that an earthquake might not even disturb her. Deciding that she was paying too little attention to him, Lee gently plucked the book from her hands, forcing her to look at him.

“Can I help you?” She asked, reaching across Lee to retrieve her book.

“I’m bored.” He whined, flipping through it’s pages. “Why aren’t there any pictures?”

“Because it’s a novel, not a picture book.” Grabbing back her book she stuffed it in her bag and huffed. “I thought you were going to the quidditch friendly?”

Leaning back in his chair, Lee sighed. “Let me tell you, that was the plan, but Charlie kicked me out, said they didn’t need play by play commentating during a friendly. Apparently,” he raised his hands and make quotation marks with his fingers, “I was an unneeded distraction.”

“Aren’t you always.”

“My distracting abilities come in handy quite often.” He paused, throwing his hands behind his head as he balanced the chair on two legs. “Also, it’s nice not to have to watch Angelina fawn all over Oliver Wood. I mean what so great about Oliver Wood?”

“Are you jealous?” Grace teased, elbowing her friend.

“Jealous!” Lee yelled, causing Madam Pince to scowl and shush the two gossiping Gryffindors. Blushing, he lowered his voice and continued. “What would I have to be jealous about?”

Grace just shrugged and smiled. “Want to go outside and make a snowman? My father taught me charm over the break that helps you pack the snow better.”

Lee nodded, glad for the change of conversation and together they made their way to the Clock Tower Courtyard.

Grace was just levitating the final piece of coal for the snowman’s eyes when a yell came from down the path that lead towards the quidditch pitch. Locking eyes with Lee, she dropped the coal, and followed him as they ran down the path.

“What’s the matter?” Lee and Grace ran until they stumbled upon the Gryffindor team who were slowly making their way towards the castle. Between Charlie and the other older chaser, who’s name escaped Grace at the moment, was Naomi; she looked pale, and her left leg was hanging limply as she was all but carried by the two older players.

“Angelina,” Grace ran up to her friend as Naomi groaned again, this time with much less energy than before. “What happened?”

Angelina looked shell shocked; her eyes wide. “I’m not sure. One moment Naomi was fine, then all of a sudden, she was hit by a bludger going full speed. I heard her leg snap, it was awful.”

The two girls turned around and watched as Naomi and the two others disappeared though the door and into the castle. “What a terrible accident.” Grace whispered.

“I’m not so sure.” Oliver walked past the two girls, and they ran up to match his pace.

“What do you mean?” Angelina looked up, unused to seeing the scowl on his face.

“If I was a betting man, I’d say Rath did it on purpose.”

“Erica Rath?” Angelina gasped. Erica Rath, notorious Ravenclaw beater with a mean streak, known for hitting bludgers into the crowd. “I guess I wouldn’t put it past her; she’s brutal on a good day.”

“With an injury like that, I’d say Naomi is out for the rest of the season.” Oliver sighed and gripped his broom closer to his chest. “And here I thought we’d have a chance at the cup.” He wiped away a nonexistent tear, and Grace rolled her eyes. “Well, unless you two know another top-notch chaser, looks like we’ll be competing for third place this year.”

A ginormous grin made its way onto Angelina’s face and grabbing Oliver’s arm, she pulled him to a stop. “I think I just might know the perfect person.”

* * *

It was a fact; at the orders of Madam Pomfrey, Naomi was barred from playing quidditch for the rest of the year. She had tried to put up a fight, but seeing that she wasn’t even capable of standing on her shattered leg, quickly acquiesced. With her blessing, which Charlie didn’t honestly need but still felt like he ought to get, he tried out Alicia.

She was quite good, admittedly a little more hesitant on a broom than Angelina or Naomi, but she took direction well and was a team player. So now Charlie had a sea of children on his team, and not just any children, but children who just happened to be Fred and George and their equally rambunctious friends. A shiver went down his spine as he questioned his own sanity. Oliver and Lucky were no help, both finding humour in his predicament.

“Who knows Charlie, we might still be in the running.” Lucky threw some dried beef pellets on the ground, and blinked as they disappeared into thin air. “Don’t think I’ll ever get used to feeding something I can’t see.”

“We better be, wanna wipe that smirk off Flint’s face.”

“Lucky you got me then.” Lucky smirked and pulled on Charlie’s ponytail. Turning away from his friend as to hid his blush, he waved his hands.

“All right, all right. Enough.” Marching his way back towards the small group of N.E.W.T.s students, Charlie’s blush grew stronger as Lucky placed their hand on his shoulder, and looking their friend in the eyes, winked.

* * *

“Well aren’t you busy.” Alicia looked around the crowded room. The twins and Lee had found an old abandoned classroom tucked away on the fourth floor that looked as if it hadn’t been stepped into in over 100 years. With a few quick cleaning spells, learned from years of watching their mother tend house, Fred and George made easy work of cleaning up the place.

Now they were a well-stocked shop; selling Zonko’s goods for a markup, as well as other highly requested items such as candy and their own patented stinkbombs. Word was easy enough to get round, and young students flocked to the store, eager to spend their gold.

“It’s a pretty good turn out.” Responded Fred, taking in the surroundings.

“If we want to keep it up, we’ll have to start varying the product next year.” George appeared out of almost nowhere, making Alicia jump in surprise.

“And how are you going to do that?” She asked, genuinely curious. George made his way over to his brother and swung his arm over Fred’s shoulders, mirrored grins on their faces.

“That’s for us to know…”

“And for you to find out.”

“You know, when the two of you do things like that, it’s no wonder no one can tell you apart.” The boys nodded in unison.

“Glad to hear.”

“We’ll have to keep it up.”

“Keep the mystery alive.”

“More fun that way.”

Alicia felt dizzy trying to follow the boys’ quick pace. “Fun for who?”

“For us of course!” They answered in unison, causing Alicia to just roll her eyes, although if she was being honest, she enjoyed their humour. An out of breath Lee ran into room, causing Fred and George to turn towards the door.

“Do you have egg on your head?” Alicia pulled a bit of shell from Lee’s hair, and inspected it.

“Peeves is throwing them.” Said Lee, looking pointedly at the twins. As if on command they started walking around the room, addressing their customers and shutting away their supplies.

“All right everybody, you know what that means. Prefects on the way, stores closed for the day.”

“You don’t have to go back to your common rooms, but you can’t stay here.”

Students quickly ran out the door, dispersing like mice caught in a kitchen. Tucking their products under tables and into cabinets, the remaining Gryffindors went to leave the room, when they heard voices getting closer.

“Shoot.” Said Fred, peaking out of the doorway. “It’s those two Hufflepuffs.”

“The ones who docked us 10 points last week?” Lee asked, peaking under his friend’s arm.

“The very same.” Fred stepped back and scratched his chin. “We could try to make a run for it, they can’t catch us all.”

“Just have to make sure they don’t stumble on the shop.” Responded an equally nervous George.

Their anxiety grew with every with every echo of the prefects’ steps, and held their breath as they made their way closer.

“Excuse me?” The two Hufflepuffs stopped and turned around. Grace stood at the far end of the corridor, and innocent expression on her face. “I just thought I ought to tell you that I just saw Peeves with a fresh basket eggs heading towards the library. I assumed that since you are both prefects, you ought to do something about that.” The prefect nodded and quickly ran down the hallway, thanking Grace for the helpful information. Once the coast was clear, the hiding students peaked out of the classroom, seeing a very smug looking Grace waiting for them.

“I only gave Peeves a dozen eggs.” Said Fred, raising his eyebrow. “How’d he get a fresh basket?” Grace grinned, and Alicia couldn’t help but draw parallels between her friend and the twins; if she only had the red hair and Weasley complexion, one would surly assume they were triplets.

“Who knows, Fred.” She shrugged and slipped her arm though his. “He a tricky little poltergeist.”

Fred laughed and walked the two of them down the hall to dinner, their friends following closely behind.

“That he is!”

* * *

It was the day of the house cup, and the Gryffindor quidditch team had sequestered themselves away in their changing room, having been there since 8am. Their nervous energy was radiating off of them; Charlie was clutching his broom so tightly that George was afraid it might splinter in his hand.

“You alright Charlie?” Lucky asked, peeling Charlie’s fingers from the handle, and gently setting it down beside them.

“Fine.” Charlie squeezed his hand tighter, not even noticing that he was no longer holding anything. “Just thinking.”

“Well dunna think too hard.” Oliver smiled. “It’d be very unlike you.” Charlie narrowed his eyes, before letting out an uproarious laugh.

“I suppose I needed that.” With all the captain like energy he could muster, Charlie stood up to give his group one last pep talk when Madam Hooch entered, informing them that the match was about to begin.

As they lined up, ready to leave at Madam Hooch’s whistle, Charlie smiled down at his brothers, nervously fidgeting with their gear.

“Hey you two. I want you to know that I’m very proud of both of you; you’ve both become exceptional beaters this past season. And, I couldn’t imagine a better way to compete for my final quidditch cup than with my brothers by my side.” The two younger boys genuinely smiled, for they felt quite touched by their brother’s compliment, but quickly changed back into their mischievous selves.

“If that’s true, then I suppose we don’t need to win this game.”

“And darn it, we were really going to try.” Charlie reached out and messed the hair of the closest twin.

“Face forward, we’ve got a game to win.” At the sound of the whistle, the team took off and flew out to the pitch.

* * *

Grace and Kenneth stood together in the Gryffindor stands; while Kenneth was annoyed to be cheering both Fred and George to victory, he was excited for the match to start. Slytherin and Gryffindor were neck and neck in the rankings, and it really came down to whoever caught the snitch first. Charlie was a far faster flyer than the Slytherin seeker, so as long as the rest of the team scored a few goals and blocked some others, Gryffindor had victory within their grasp.

Grace was just thankful to be watching the game with someone, seeing as all of her friends had abandoned her for quidditch; Lee had gotten the commentator’s job, all be it under extreme scrutiny from McGonagall, and had excitedly wished her fair well as they split. Now, she was with Kenneth, and while the animosity the twins held for him influenced her opinion a little, she happily stood next to him.

Spotting the familiar red hair of a Weasley, Grace called out; “Percy! Percy! Over here.”

Following his name, Percy pushed through the crowd, trailed by a tall blonde.

“Grace, Kenneth.” He nodded to the two second years. “This is my friend, Penny.” He blushed, realizing his mistake. “I mean, Penelope.”

“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Grace greeted the girl as politely as she had been taught to do, extending her hand out for a cordial shake. Kenneth responded in kind.

“Oh! Hello.” Penelope all by squealed. “Are you sure these two are your brothers’ friends? They’re so well behaved.”

“Hardly.” Scoffed Kenneth. “I’m just unlucky enough to share a room with them.”

“Don’t be fooled,” Percy looked down his nose at Grace, “I have it on good authority that she was the one who provided Peeves with those eggs he was throwing around last month.”

“Lucky you aren’t a prefect then; don’t have the ability to take any house points, despite your good authority.” Grace responded, looking at back at the taller boy with the same animosity he showed her.

“Haha. Yes, I suppose I can see how you might be friends with the twins after all.”

* * *

“Now I want a good, clean game.” Madam Hooch yelled from the bottom of the field. She watched as the two captains shook hands, both boys attempting to crush the other’s, and kicking the box open, sent the balls flying as she blew her whistle.

“And they’re off.” Shouted Lee, holding the bewitched microphone a little too close to his face, McGonagall pulling it back slightly as he continued. “Johnson’s the first one to grab quaffle, and she’s speeding towards the Slytherin posts. Look how she dodges that rogue bludger from Bole, what a woman.” Angelina zipped past Grace and Kenneth so closely they had to hold down their scarves for fear they might fly away.

“Looks like this might be the first point of the game.” A cheer erupted from the Gryffindor stands. “And it’s good. Ten points to Gryffindor!” Angelina flew back to the center of the pitch, high fiving Lucky on the way.

The game had been going on for an hour already, but Grace’s heart still raced with adrenaline, as is she herself were playing. She was enthralled at the way Fred and George moved in sync, knocking bludgers towards the opposing team as if they shared a brain. As Alicia scored a goal for Gryffindor, and her first of the game, Grace hugged Percy too excited to control her enthusiasm. Shocked, but not entirely displeased, he patted her head and celebrated himself, all be if far less exuberantly.

“That’s Gryffindor up 20 points, and with still no sighting of the snitch, does Slytherin have a chance to beat the lions?” A loud boo came from the green and silver section. “Hey, hey.” Lee yelled. “It’s just colourful commentary.”

Charlie sat perched on his broom, far above the messy game below. He could see that all the players on both teams were growing fatigued, and was worried that the snitch had yet to make an appearance. He watched Flint’s erratic movements below; the Slytherin chaser wasn’t known for playing fair even against his own house, and as time dragged on, Charlie feared what he might do.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something flicker in the sunlight; the snitch. He dived after it just as Lee announced that Charlie must have spotted the snitch. Curse that boy and his accurate commentating, Charlie thought. The Slytherin seeker, a scrawny sixth year, followed Charlie as fast as he could, but despite his far better broom, he was no match for Charlie’s speed.

Flint’s movements weren’t as erratic as Charlie had assumed; he had been keeping a keen eye on the two Weasley twins the entire match, looking for an opening to separate them. They were far too good at throwing off his team as a pair, and if he could get one of them out of the game, things would be far easier. He watched as one of them lined up a shot towards his keeper, and seizing his opportunity, threw the quaffle as hard as possibly could at the boy’s head.

Fred had just passed his brother the angry bludger, knowing that George had the better arm to knock the Slytherin keeper from the center goal, when Charlie passed by, chasing the quick snitch. George let go of his broom, winding up his arm, when he heard his name being yelled. Turning around, he was hit right in the face by the quaffle, knocking him off his broom and tumbling towards the hard earth below.

Grace screamed George’s name in warning as she watched Flint throw the quaffle towards his face, but she was too late. She held onto Percy as they watched George fall limply, incapable of doing much else. It was as if she couldn’t breath as she watched Fred try to catch his brother, just too slow to match his velocity, yet she couldn’t look away. She shivered as she felt the wind whip against her face, as if it was she herself falling towards the ground.

Charlie heard a gasp from the crowd and turned just in time to see Fred reach out for George as he plummeted to the ground. Giving up his chase of the snitch, Charlie changed course to try and grab his brother, knowing if he hit to the ground from this height, he could quite possibly die. Reaching forward, he grabbed his brother’s limp body in midair, and being unable to heave him up onto the broomstick, crashed into the ground.

* * *

George woke up with a groan, and cried out in pain as he tried to scrunch his face as he stretched. The heads of his brother and Grace shot up, groggy from sleep, but as they registered who had made the offending noise, perked up.

“Georgie! You’re alright.” Grace flung her arms around his neck and buried her face into his shoulder. “We were so worried.”

“I wasn’t.” Claimed Fred, though the tone of his voice gave him away. Letting go of his machismo pride, he also leaned in and hugged his brother. “Gave us a right start you did.” Pulling back, George lifted his hand and gingerly touched his nose, a searing pain shooting through his head at the touch.

“What happened?”

Fred crossed his arms and angerly spit out; “Flint happened. Threw the quaffle right at your head, knocked you unconscious and right off your broom. Lucky Charlie was there to catch you.” Fred nodded towards the bed next to them where laid a snoring Charlie, bandaged foot suspended in the air.

“It was terrifying.” Admitted Grace, looking into George’s eyes. “I can’t believe Flint would do something like that.”

“I can’t believe that Flint got away with something like that.”

“What?” Cried George, moving slightly too fast, causing a sharp pain in his side.

“Flint claimed it was an accident.” Grace added after shushing George, reminding him that it was late and well past visiting hours. “Said something about the adrenaline of the game.”

“Adrenaline my ass.” Fred whispered under his breath. Looking between Grace and his brother, he sighed, and pulled them both close once more. “Thank goodness you’re alright, I honestly don’t know what we would have done.”

George blushed and hugged the two back. “No need to worry, I’m not going anywhere. Be around to bother and be bothered by the two of you for the rest of our lives.” A small flicker of candle light broke up the group as Madam Pomfrey made her way towards them.

“Mr. Weasley, Ms. Zastra. What on earth are the two of you doing here at this hour? You should be sleeping.”

“Well we were Madam, until Georgie here decided to wake us up.” Placing down her light, Madam Pomfrey looked over George, checking his bandages with her wand.

“I must say, I am glad to see you up. You gave us quite a start.” She turned to the two others, still sitting at the end of George’s bed. “Now that Mr. Weasley is up, I suggest the two of you head back to your common room, before you find yourselves in trouble.”

Standing up, Grace looked at George once more. “How long till he’s better?”

“Mr. Weasley has several ribs to regrow, not to mention a severe broken nose and fractured cheek bones. I doubt he will be better any time soon.”

“Lucky you.” Fred whistled. “You get to skip finals.” Madam Pomfrey flicked her wand towards the door, and taking the hint, the two left. Watching them exit and turn towards Gryffindor Tower, she shook her head and smiled.

“Quite a group you have there Mr. Weasley.” George agreed, sleep overtaking him once more.


	13. Afternoon Tea With The Weasleys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry this is so incredibly late. i have been terribly busy with school and hit a major wall when writing this chapter. thank you for being patient!

Taking off his hat, Lowrance followed his excited daughter through the weather worn door into the, what one might kindly describe as eclectic, house. Molly Weasley stood to the side, clean apron covering her white and yellow checkered frock, and smiled as the young girl greeted her.

“Hello Mrs. Weasley. It’s so lovely to see you again.” With her father’s help, Grace had figured out how to plait her hair, stringing bright red ribbons through it.

“Hello dear, doesn’t your hair just look charming.” She closed the door as they entered and showed them in to sit at the large kitchen table. Grace sat down on the seat offered and leaned back, peering into the hallway, eager to spot her friends. Watching the young girl’s attempt at subtlety made Molly smile. “Don’t you worry, they’ll be down in a moment. They’re just washing up.”

Grace looked across the table at the two youngest Weasleys; Ginny was looking at her curiously, quietly observing the first friend Fred and George had ever invited home, but Ron was far more interested in watching his mother at the cabinets.

Molly placed a blue tin filled to the brim with strawberry jam biscuits on the table; Fred and George had informed her that Grace was quite partial to the sweet, and had helped her to bake them the night before. Ron reached forward to grab one, but Molly swatted at his hand.

“Guests first. Have a biscuit while you wait, Grace.” The girl visibly relaxed and reached forward to grab a jam filled biscuit, stopping just short of the tin. Glancing up to her father for approval, he nodded and she happily grab one, biting into the strawberry goodness.

With a loud thud from upstairs, the two boys came barreling down into the kitchen, faces freshly cleaned and hair freshly cut.

“What are you doing here?” Fred asked good-naturedly, leaning against the door frame. George joined up behind him, and placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“Missed us so much, couldn’t even wait another month till school started.”

Grace smiled as she looked them over; they never seemed to stop growing, no doubt due to Molly’s fantastic cooking. But their faces had slimed out slightly, and she noted how strange it was that they looked so different in only the 2 months that she hadn’t seen them.

“If I recall correctly, it’s the fact that you two who were so desperate to see me that I’m even here in the first place.” George nodded and pushed past his brother, taking the empty seat next to Grace.

“Semantics.” He shrugged, biting into the strawberry biscuit. Coming in from the outside, Arthur wiped his grease covered hands on a rag, before kissing his wife on the cheek and greeting his children. Finally, he acknowledged the two visitors.

“Ah the Zastras are here. Good to see you again Grace,” he smiled warmly at the young girl, “and you, Lowrance.”

“Arthur.” Lowrance nodded. “We appreciate the invitation.” An awkward silence passed over the group; Arthur and Lowrance both clearly uncomfortable with spending time together.

“Why don’t you children go outside?” Molly asked, clapping her hands together. “Tea won’t be ready for a little longer.” George immediately jumped up from his seat, readily agreeing, and all but dragging Grace through the door.

“Would you like me to take that for you?” Molly asked; it was a swelteringly hot and muggy day, and Molly and Arthur felt overheated just looking at Lowrance dressed in his thick long-sleeved cloak.

Lowrance was watching out the window above the kitchen sink as Fred and George flew around on their well-used Cleansweeps, Grace admiring them all the while. He blinked, realizing that Molly had spoken to him, and nodded, slipping the heavy cloak off, revealing a thin light blue dress shirt. Molly folded the fabric over her arm, and moved towards the closet, carefully hanging it up. As she entered back into the room, she watched as Lowrance rolled up his sleeves and unbuttoned the top button of his collar.

“It truly is quite hot here; had I known, I would have dressed more to the occasion.” Arthur nodded in response, surprised at the casual air Lowrance was now putting off.

“It does get quite stifling up here this time of year. But despite the weather, we are grateful you and Grace came all the same.”

Molly finished pouring the hot water into the tea cup and passed it to Lowrance who moved towards the table.

“Truly, the boys have been begging us since we picked them up at the train station to invite Grace over.” Arthur plopped three large spoonfulls of sugar into his tea and stirred it, laughing at the boys’ antics. They had been on their best behavior nearly all summer, thinking that if they were well behaved, their parents would have to give into their wants. Little did they know, Molly had already owled the Zastras, requesting that they join them for tea.

“Shame your wife couldn’t join us.” Said Molly dryly as she joined the two men, scooping sugar into her own drink.

“Hardly.” Lowrance took a slow sip and relished the feeling of the hot liquid sliding down his throat. “Had she been home when I received your owl, I would have burnt the letter the moment I got it.” Stopping stirring her tea, Molly looked towards her husband; Arthur seemed to have the same confused look on his face as she did. Noticing their discomfort, Lowrance continued, hoping that they would ignore his previous comment. “She is out of the country, some assignment with the Ministry. Her and Fudge’s Undersecretary were sent to Ireland, though I cannot say that I know why.”

“I didn’t know Dolores was out of the country.” Arthur leaned back into his chair. He knew of Dolores Umbridge of course, a vile woman who had worked her way up the ranks of the Ministry faster than most. There were strong rumors about her dislike of Muggle-Borns and many believed her to share some extreme anti-Muggle and anti-non-human sentiments, however none of this prevented her from gaining a spot on with Wizengamot and as one of Fudge’s most trusted associates.

“Yes. I would almost pity my wife having to spend a week with Dolores, though I do believe they are quite close at work.” Lowrance chuckled much to the surprise of both Weasleys. “And given the opportunity, how could I deny Grace a visit to her friends?”

Glancing out the window once more, he watched as Grace called one of the twins closer to her. He could see his daughter’s budding dependence on the two Weasley twins, and while he did not fully understand it or how it came to pass, he knew that there was no stopping it.

“Is everything alright, Lowrance?” Molly followed the man’s gaze out the window. Fred was currently pulling Grace onto his broom, hovering gently above the ground, George watching from above. Successfully tucked behind him, Grace and the boys flew off, all be it at a much slower speed and far closer to the ground than the twins would normally. “They must be heading towards the pond.” They sat in silence watching the trio disappeared over a hill, Ron and Ginny following on foot; Arthur reached forward to grab a biscuit from the blue metal tin sitting in the center of the table, but stopped halfway as Lowrance spoke again.

“Your sons look a great deal like your brothers, Molly. I remember them well, we were in the same year; clever boys, annoying, but clever.” Lowrance tapped his long nails against the ceramic mug, refusing to look the two Weasleys in the eyes. “There was a girl, in the year below us, that was always with them. I caught the three of them sneaking out a few times after curfew, gladly docked Gryffindor a few points for it, head boy duties and all.”

Molly and Arthur looked at each other, an air of discomfort passing between the two of them.

“Marlene.” Molly said. “Her name was Marlene.”

“Yes, of course, Marlene. I once found them coming back from the black lake late one night; and I saw the way they looked at her, and the way she looked at them.” He took a sip of his tea, which was still as warm as if it were freshly poured. For a moment he battled with himself, questioning whether he should continue; perhaps he was reading too much into his daughter’s friendship, but he couldn’t stop his mind from racing.

“It’s the same way your boys look at Grace, and the same way she looks at them.” He closed his eyes, and leaning back into his chair, rubbed his palms against his temples. “In all honesty, I do not know what I am asking, but I know that there is something.”

Molly leaned forward, resting her head on her hand; she had hoped to keep things quite, at least until she was able to tell the three themselves, but as she looked at the man before her, she saw a father desperate to understand and protect his daughter.

She reached forward, and taking his hand into her own, sighed. “Have you ever heard of a Triad?”


	14. Another Year Older...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> third year is here!  
> story lines will be getting a little more complex now that our favs are getting a little older, so more than likely, each term will be split into two parts.
> 
> Hope you're all doing well!

The excitement that Harry Potter was finally attending Hogwarts was second only to the fact that he had been sorted into Gryffindor; Fred and George had loudly exclaimed “We got Potter!” much to the embarrassment of the boy and most of the Gryffindor table. And while he quickly became the popular topic of conversation for most students, Oliver Wood’s attention was predictably focused elsewhere. Now that Charlie and Lucky had graduated, Oliver had been dubbed captain; a position that he had earned, not just because of his affinity and talent for the game, but also due to the fact that he was literally the only upper year student on the team.

Try-outs were a near disaster; Fred and George watched how with every easily blocked goal, Oliver’s spirits drained more and more. Not to mention no one tried out for seeker, everyone seemingly unwilling to step up to fill Charlie’s massive shoes.

A flicker of hope came in the form of Katie Bell; a feisty second year with a sharp jaw line and an even sharper tongue. She quickly out preformed her opponents and was welcomed with open arms by a watery eyed Oliver. As he looked over his almost complete team, he sighed, realizing how Charlie must have felt last year, surrounded by rowdy children.

However, his true salvation came in the form of Harry Potter; the new student who Oliver hadn’t thought more about than the house elves in the kitchen. When McGonagall hastily pulled him from class, which he had to admit he was thankful for, Quirrell’s class being the joke that it was, he hadn’t expected Harry to be as talented as she claimed. But, after a brief run through of the quidditch basics, Oliver had a good feeling about his team.

Sighing happily, he pressed Alicia up against the wooden pillar of the quidditch stands, their own secluded rendezvous spot, and captured her lips in a hasty kiss.

* * *

Plopping themselves down on the dusty cushions, Fred and George cursed whatever deity decided to schedule 9 am Divination Lessons. Grace just laughed as she joined them, Lee already taking a spot with Angelina and Alicia, and informed the two grumbling twins that they were all in the same boat together, and that deity they were so willing to curse was McGonagall herself. Fred just rolled his eyes, not amused with her teasing.

“Ms. Zastra.” Professor Trelawney wailed, finished with her opening speech. “Do you believe yourself to be in possession of a third eye?”

“Seeing as I haven’t been down to Nocturn Alley to purchase one for myself, not currently professor.” Grace’s comment caused George to snort, but quickly covered his mouth when Trelawney turned to him.

“Mr. Weasley,” She wiggled her fingers in his direction. “I fear your good humour will be the death of you.” George just raised his eyebrows as Fred nudged his brother in the ribs.

“Well, you have heard what the muggles say, kill ‘em with laughter.” Fred winked, clearly amused with her prediction.

“I don’t think that what the muggle’s say at all.” Angelina shook her head from the other side of the room, grateful to be sitting far away from the Weasley twins. They were annoying and rambunctious while on their best behaviour, and since Divination was possibly the most ridiculous class offered at Hogwarts, she had little hops for them behaving.

“Yes, well,” Professor Trelawney attempted to pull the attention of the room back on her, “today as a little warm up we will be working on Palmistry. Now open your books to the fourth chapter and refer to the chart there while reading your tablemates palms.”

Flipping open her book to chapter 4, Grace glanced at detailed drawing of a palm and looked at hers in comparison.

“So, who wants to go first?” She asked, looking between the suddenly quite boys before her. “I suppose I’ll have to go first then. George,” she reached out her hand, “your hand?” Gently, he placed his palm in hers, though not too pleased to be going first.

“Well, according to your head line, which is quite wobblily, you’re quite a progressive thinker.” She kept her tight hold on his hand as she continued to read, “Though you’ve got a decent number of breaks in the line, which means you’re going to suffer from a great deal of mental strife.” She gave him a pitying smile and dropped his hand.

“Always knew I was the more stable one, remember how you slept with that stuffed lamb well into first year? Should have known then.”

“Shove it. Let’s see yours then.” George grabbed his brother’s hand, and peering to look into Grace’s book, started to read. “Ooo, your life line is terrible. Says that you’re going to have a really boring life filled with no fun at all.” Grace giggled, leaning over the table to get a better look.

“Alright, alright, I get it.” He shook his brother off and pulled the book towards him. Looking at Grace’s hand, he scrunched his eyebrows and looked back at book. “That’s weird.”

“What’s weird?” She pulled her hand back, clutching it to her chest.

“You’ve got two heart lines.” Exclaimed Fred. “And there’s nothing in the book about that.”

Trelawney, as if appearing out of nowhere, reached forward to hold Grace’s hand, nearly pressing her thick spectacles against her palm. She ran one of her boney fingers across the two lines, muttering to herself as she did.

“Poor dear, poor Marlene. Oh poor, poor dears.” Trelawney’s grip tightened as she looked between the three perplexed students, repeating over and over her frantic muttering. Looking up into Grace’s face, Trelawney’s eyes seemed to gloss over, her mind in some far distant place.

“Professor!” Grace pulled her hand away, flexing her numb fingers. All at one, she returned to herself, and straightening out her back, smiled.

“So sorry dear, didn’t mean to hurt you. Now where was I…” Trelawney wandered into the center of the room, throwing her hands above her head and exclaiming some other nonsense, but Grace paid her no mind. All her attention was on her hand placed in her lap, twin lines staring back at her.

* * *

“Mum wanted to know if you wanted to come over for Christmas this year.” Grace looked up from her parchment to be met with the pink face of Fred Weasley. He was half hunched over a cauldron, stirring the thick mixture counter-clockwise with his wand, attempting to look as breezy as possible. Looking across the room to make sure they wouldn’t get yelled at for chatting, she saw that Snape was otherwise preoccupied chastising a scared looking Ravenclaw.

“Oh, well that’s nice of her.” Grace said, tilting her head to the side, observing the uncharacteristically nervous boy before her.

“Yeah, well.” Fred tapped off the excess liquid from his wand before wiping it on his sweater, leaving a dark red stain behind. Clearing his throat, he continued. “Mum said you were such a great guest, offering to help clean up and everything, so she thought I’d be nice if you came again. And since Ron and Percy are both staying here, and with Bill and Charlie both away, we aren’t use to having such a quite house around the holidays so we though we outa add someone.”

“How rational.” She grinned, knowing that the conversation was not going as well as Fred had planned.

“And I thought, I mean she thought, that since you didn’t have any plans, that you might like to join us.”

“Well, that’s very considerate of her, though I was looking forward to my quiet holiday here at the castle; think of all the work I could get done without the two of you around to bug me.”

Fred’s upper lip twitched slightly, a mixture of humour and annoyance.

“Come off it.”

“I can’t say yes Fred, not unless you actually ask me.” She put on her poshest voice, and throwing her hands in the air, gasped. “A Zastra would never show up to a party uninvited. It would be uncouth and practically barbaric; what if they didn’t have enough table settings?”

Laughing, Fred reached out and pulled her hands into his, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand.

“Yea, yea, I get it.” Letting go of one of her hands, he bowed. “I kindly request your presence at the Burrow for the entirety of Christmas break.” He stood back up, as if realizing how ridiculous he truly looked bowing in the middle of a full classroom. “So, are you coming or not?”

“Course I am, you dolt.” She sat back down on her stool, eyes flickering to his dangerously over-boiling potion, watching as he frantically tried to reduce the heat. “Your mum already owled me.”

* * *

It was late, the rest of her friends having gone to bed several hours ago, yet Grace found herself with more work to do. She had been struggling lately in Potions, her latest Wideye Potion attempt having knocked her out for a nice 2-hour nap, and was desperate to figure out just what had gone wrong. Her book sat open on the table in front of her, but her energy to continue reading diminished by the second. With a frustrated groan, she shut the book and rested her head on the hard cover, wishing that she could absorb the information that way. She was starting to drift off to sleep when she heard whispering coming from the boys’ staircase. Slowly opening her eyes, she spotted the dark shapes of Fred, George, and Lee.

“All right,” said Fred, “no prefects are on this floor nor the 8th. If we slip out now, we can make it to the kitchens before they circle back.”

“I can’t believe that you just woke me up to sneak into the kitchens.” Yawned Lee, voice heavy with sleep.

“We wanted to get some treats; thought you’d be angry with us if we left you out.” Said George. Lee just shrugged, knowing that they were right. Realizing that the boys hadn’t noticed her yet, she opened her eyes fully; Fred was holding a large piece of parchment that the other two boys were hunched over, quietly surveying.

“Come on, we gotta go now before that Ravenclaw Prefect gets here.” The three boys nodded, and made their way to the portrait hole, and crawled out. Curiosity peaked, Grace stood up and after debating with herself for a few moments, slowly followed the boys out.

As the three boys rounded a corner on the third floor, after narrowly missing two Hufflepuff prefects, who to be honest seemed much more focused on each other than their rounds, George noticed a pair of footsteps following them on the map.

“Fred, look.” There the map, about 10 feet behind them, was Grace. The group stopped; eyes wide when Grace’s footsteps also stilled.

“What do we do? How’d she follow us?” asked Lee, trying to peer around the corner.

“I suppose we ask her to join?”

“I was wondering when you’d get around to that.” The boys leaped up in surprise, and turned to see smirking Grace. She crossed her arms and leaned against the cold stone wall, surveying the nervous looking group. “What’s that you have in your hand.” She reached forward, pulling the map from Fred’s hand before he could hide it behind his back. She looked over the page, “The Marauder’s Map,” she took a moment to let it sink in, “it’s a map of Hogwarts! But how? I though Hogwarts was un-mappable.”

“Apparently someone figured it out.” Responded Lee, the first to snap out of his surprise. Not taking her eyes off the incredible piece of magic, Grace began to walk forward, the boys following closely behind.

“This is incredible, all of Hogwarts, and are those, us?” George nodded, please with how excited she was. “Fantastic, brilliant really. Where’d you get it?”

“Remember that day in Filch’s office?” Grace nodded, of course she remembered; it had been one of the best and worst days of her life. Her two best friends in all the world had just proved to her how much they cared for her, and although they got her a detention, which honestly had started her mother’s increasing hostility, she didn’t regret it.

“Nicked it from the cabinet.” Grinned Fred, quite pleased with himself. Glancing back down at the map, she sobered and stopped walking, causing the boys to quickly stop as well.

“Quite dangerous though, isn’t it?” Realizing that the boys were not following, she pressed on, “I mean, think about it. What happens if this falls into the wrong hands, the hands of someone who wants to cause Hogwarts harm. I mean, it shows secret passages, and hidden rooms, and where everyone is at all times.”

“But that’s not gunna happen.” Chided Fred, mildly annoyed at Grace having ruined their fun. “We’ll keep a good watch of it, and anyway, who’d wanna attack Hogwarts? I mean, it’s Hogwarts.”

“Exactly, it’s a school filled with barely trained witches and wizards, it’s not like we could fight back.” Fred groaned as he watched Grace’s face get red with frustration; turning to his brother, he made a motion as if to say ‘girls’, only to find George looking bashfully at his feet.

“And knowing you three, even with all this information you’ll still get into trouble, and then map will be taken from you, and who knows who will get it next.”

Fred gritted his teeth; it was one thing for Grace to express her concern about the existence of the map, but to basically call them carless was another. George was bothered by her assumptions as well, and rolled his eyes at her unnecessary worry.

Standing behind the twins, Lee felt rather uncomfortable with the whole situation; he was not quite so used to seeing Fred and George angry at Grace, the three typically being on the same page for everything. Even when she and the twins did butt heads, it was more of a humorous give and take then an actually argument.

“All I’m saying is that I don’t think the people who made this map had very good foresight; if it’s easy enough for a handful of silly third years to figure out how to use, then what’s stopping some dea-, some bad guy from figuring it out as well.”

“Are you trying to ruin our fun?” Snapped Fred, tired of her apparent nagging. Grace blanched and took a step back, her grip on the map loosening. “This is why we didn’t invite you. If all you’re going to do,” he ripped the map from her grip and folded it up, tucking it under his arm, “is criticize us, then bugger off.” Fred turned on his heel and started down the hall, Lee following closely. As her eyes began to fill with tears, she saw a blurry George take a step forward as if to comfort her, before stepping back and following his brother and friend down the dimly lit corridor.

* * *

After being all but dragged down to breakfast by Alicia and Angelina, the three girls attempted to enjoy their meal, but the tension in the air was palpable. Grace hadn’t spoken a word to either girl all morning, attempting to avoid the uncomfortable conversation she knew would occur; instead she was engrossed in tearing apart the golden colored toast that had magically appeared on her plate. Her friends had noticed her red and puffy eyes when they woke in the morning, and were concerned about what had happened to cause them.

“You think she got a bad letter from her mum?” Whispered Angelina as she leaned up against Alicia. Not taking her eyes off her friend, Alicia shrugged.

“I’m not sure.” She thought for a moment, “We could ask the twins, they might know. Though I haven’t seen them all morning.”

“Which is curious since they’re not one to turn down food.” Grace shoved away her plate with a groan, causing the pieces of ripped up toast to be strewn across the table, and rested her head on her hands. Alicia leaned forward and gently placed her hand on Grace’s arm.

“If there’s something the matter, you know you can talk to us about it.”

“Yeah, we’re here for you,” agreed Angelina, “for whatever you need.” Grace heard the concern in her friends’ voices; it wasn’t that she didn’t want to share what was making her sad, it was more that she thought her reason for being so was a bit ridiculous. So what the boys got mad at her, boys can be mean, so can anyone. And she supposed she deserved a bit of it, she had been quite rude.

But it really wasn’t that any of them had gotten mad at her, it was that they had left her. She supposed it was her childish foolishness, but she never expected Fred and George to leave her behind, she never pictured that they would leave her out.

Propping her chin up on the back of her hands, she smiled a watery smile and laughed. “It’s nothing, I’m just being silly really. But, if something does happen, believe me, you two are the first ones I’m running to.”

“As you should.” Angelina smacked her hand on Alicia’s back. “We’re your best friends, we’ve got your back.”

“Right back at you.” The girls continued their meal, Grace’s spirits quite lifted as she gossiped with her friends; Grace had promised Professor Sprout that she would come after dinner to help re-pot some of the fickler plants, while the others had practice well into the late evening.

“Well, while your elbow deep in dirt all evening, I’ll be hanging out with Oliver.”

“And staring at him no doubt.” Whispered Alicia rolling her eyes in response, causing Grace to snort her tea.

“So, what?” She huffed. “He’s fit.” 

“Who’s fit?” The three girls went quiet, blushes crawling up their cheeks, realizing that their conversation was no longer private. Grace had to prevent herself from turning around; despite it all, she was in fact still mad at the twins, there was sense of calm that washed over her knowing that they were close.

“None of your business.” Said Angelina at the same time Alicia said “Oliver.”

“Wood? Eh, he’s got nothing on us.” Fred elbowed his brother. They moved to take their typical seat on either side of Grace, and Fred reached forward to pour himself some juice. Making eye contact with Grace, Fred filled his cup, and smiled shyly, “Morning Gracie.”

Grace stared at him for a moment; was all he really going to say was ‘Morning Gracie.” After how he had yelled her last night, he had the gal to act like nothing happened. Grace turned her head towards George, only to be met by the same timid expression.

“Ugh!” She exclaimed, and removing herself from the table, she gathered up her books and marched out of the hall.

* * *

To say that she was annoyed was an understatement; despite showing up to class early and selecting a different table than usual, and knowing full well that she was mad at him, Fred still sat next to her. He grinned at her easily, attempting to make her laugh with jokes at the expense of their classmates, but she was refusing to bite.

Fred was in no sense a stupid boy, but having grown up with only one sister, who was also younger than him, he lacked finesse in dealing well with the emotions of others; an issue common in ones only having older brothers and without too much life experience under their belts.

He sighed, leaning back into his chair, not fully understanding why Grace was still cross with him. They had fought, but he couldn’t imagine that that little spat was the cause of the anger and annoyance he could feel rolling off her. He tried to make things better in the only way he knew how, humour, but nothing seemed to be working.

Deciding to be the bigger person, Grace turned her body fully towards Fred. “Look Fred, I wanted to talk about what happened last night.” She tried to continue, but he cut her off, lifting his hand.

“No need to apologize Gracie, we both got a little heated up. No worries.”

“Apologize? Me? I had absolutely no intention of apologizing to you. I wanted you to apologize to me.” She guffawed, angerly crossing her arms.

Fred’s eyebrows shot up, clearly surprised. “Why do I need to apologize?”

“You yelled at me!”

“You insulted me!”

Their argument had grown louder, drawing the attention the entire class, McGonagall’s sentence trailing off. George, sitting just the just table up watched them both with wide eyes.

“Insulted you?”

“You practically called me careless.”

“You are carless.” Grace breathed deep. “And you left me.” Her voice wavered ever so slightly.

Fred’s temper settled, but Grace was done; standing up, she threw her arm the air.

“Professor, would it be possible for me to switch partners?” Startled by the girl’s request, McGonagall looked between the Weasley twin and Grace; she was one of the few students that when paired with either Weasley could convince them to actually do their work, and it was unlike her not to want to work with either one.

“I suppose.” Said McGonagall adjusting her spectacles. “Though you would have to convince one of your classmates to join you.” Grace nodded out of sheer determination and looked around the room. The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs had joint Transfiguration this year, and as she looked out at the sea of yellow and red, she realized that most of her classmates had suddenly grown incredibly interested in their cuticles. Spotting a set of brunette Hufflepuffs sitting at the very opposite end of the room, Grace marched over and spoke to the one closest to her.

“Will you be my partner?” He looked up nervously, but nodded his head just the same. “Fantastic.”

She turned to the other one and in her most sincere voice, apologized to the confused Hufflepuff, all while practically shoving him out of his seat.

“Truly sorry that you’ve got to be partnered with Fred.” The mousy boy nodded, and slowly made his way towards the perplexed redhead. Taking his new seat, he turned to introduce himself only to be met with the back of Fred’s head, for he was still watching Grace.

Choosing to ignore the fact that Fred was still staring at her, she turned to her neighbour, a cordial smile on her face.

“Hi, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Grace.”

“Cedric.”


	15. Yet None The Wiser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hello! i am back!  
> thank you so much for your patience; school has been figuratively kicking my ass and i have barely found anytime for anything outside of contract and torts law.
> 
> thank you for all the wonderful comments on this piece. i am so glad that people enjoy my work. while i am pretty much writing this thing for myself, it's nice to know that others are just as hungry for some weasley twins/oc content as i am!

It was looking to be quite the pleasant day as Grace and Alicia walked arm and arm down the path to Care of Magical Creatures. Nearly every student at every age was outside, trying to take advantage of the last enjoyable weather of the season.

“Grace!” The two girls turned towards the sound, a floppy haired Hufflepuff running towards them, waving while he did.

“Cedric? How are you?”

“Good. Are you on your way to Care of Magical Creatures?” She nodded. “We just came from there; Kettleburn’s showing a fire crab today, nearly burnt Pucey’s eyebrows off.”

“Too bad, might have been a better look for him.” Grinned Alicia.

“I agree.” Laughed Cedric good naturedly. They were silent for a moment, none of the three quite sure how to progress with the conversation.

“Did you have something you wanted to ask?” Grace tilted her head.

The other third year Gryffindors had stopped slightly further down the path than Grace and Alicia, surprised by Cedric’s sudden appearance. Fred and George both threw her mildly annoyed looks before continuing to head towards class; Grace couldn’t tell if they were mad that she was talking to Cedric and not them, or if they were annoyed with stopping when they were already a bit late for class, though she seriously doubted the latter.

“Yeah, well I just wanted to say, it was really great being your Transfiguration partner this week. You’re really great at it.” Grace blushed at the compliment.

“Yeah you two. McGonagall was raving about your animal to object transfiguration.” Grace said, noticing the way Cedric did his best to try to not look too proud.

“Only because you helped correct my wand movements. But, really,” he took a deep breath, “I wanted to know if you’d like to study together in the library this evening? It would be nice to work with someone whose even better than I am.”

“Oh.” Grace thought it over for a moment; Cedric really was talented in Transfiguration, and while she was intending to just hang out in the common room tonight, an extra study session wouldn’t hurt. “I’d love too.”

“Really?” His face lit up. “Fantastic! Well, I’ve gotta go to Binn’s class now, but I’ll see you after dinner, okay?”

“Sounds good.” Cedric wished her well and running back to his friends, who eagerly patted him on the back when he reached them, headed up towards the castle. Grace and Alicia watched as they disappeared over the hill, and when they could no longer see the group of Hufflepuffs, they turned to head towards class themselves, a small smile on Grace’s face as they walked.

* * *

The enchanted ceiling thundered as a lit jack-o-lantern hovered a few feet above her head. Grace had been hoping to enjoy tonight’s Halloween feast, but that hope was crushed when she found herself unfortunately sat across from Fred; Fred who was nearly burning a hole into her head from the way he was staring. Unfortunately, the seats by Angelina and Alicia, with whom she was planning to sit with, had been taken by Katie Bell and some of her second-year friends, leaving the only available spot right where she least hoped to be.

She had bid Cedric goodbye after their most recent study session, splitting off on their way towards dinner, Grace wanting to drop her books in her room before heading to the Great Hall. When she entered through the portrait hole, she spotted the twins whispering on the sofa, but their conversation grew quite when they noticed her presence.

One of the boys stood up, adjusting his robes as he did, and turned to his twin. “I’ll see you down there Freddie.”

Walking past Grace, he gave her a soft smile before climbing out of the portrait hole. Grace furrowed her eyebrows as she watched the boy leave, a bit confused if she was being honest. The so-called Fred cleared his voice and she turned to look at him; he was standing up now, looking down at the ground and scuffing his shoe against the well-worn carpeting.

“What?” Grace asked, clutching her books closer to her. Her stomach rumbled and thinking about the delicious feast that was awaiting her, she started towards the stairs, not having time for whatever this was.

“I’m sorry.” It was just a mutter, hardly audible, but it stopped Grace in her tracks. She turned around and eyed the boy, as if willing him to continue. “George said I’ve been acting a prat ever since that night, and he’s right. So, I’m sorry if I hurt you, I didn’t mean to.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m sor-”

“No, I heard you.” She cut him off, now incredibly annoyed. She set her books down on the nearest table and crossed her arms, a look that was quite familiar to the Weasley boy; it was the look his mother always gave him whenever she was cross. “What I don’t get is why you’re pretending to be Fred. Do you think this is funny?”

George’s eyes went wide as he realized that she had caught him in a lie. But he wasn’t one to back down: perhaps he could convince her that she was wrong, he and Fred had done it to Molly since they were old enough to talk, and she was his mother. Putting on his biggest and cheesiest smile, and faking offence, he took a step towards her.

“I am Fred. We’ve been best friends since first year, can’t believe you’d still get us confused.” However, his smile faltered as Grace’s posture remained stiff; she was already upset with Fred, the fact that he hadn’t yet apologize to her was plain ridiculous, and now she was even upset with George for going along with what was obviously Fred’s stupid plan to win back her affections.

“I don’t know what Fred said to you to make you go along with this absolutely terrible plan, but I doubt it’ll be worth it. It’s one thing for Fred to act a git, but you're different than Fred, George.”

“I am Fred!”

“No, you’re not.”

George took a step back.

For all of George’s life it had always been Fred and George; Fred and George, a package deal, no getting one without the other. People tended to mix them up, confuse one with the other, which was fine, didn’t bother George too much, but at some point, it seemed that people stopped even trying to figure out who was who. They became one entity, neither different from the other, and they used that to their advantage. But sometimes, even George could admit that sometimes, he’d like to be seen just as George, not George of Fred and George, but George.

His wish had come true.

He and Fred had underestimated Grace.

“No. I’m not.”

She huffed. “At least you admit it.”

“Look, Freddie is sorry though, he’s just not very good at saying so.” George sat down on the couch, sighing as his did so, and put his feet on the table. “He hates not talking to you. It’s killing him, I can feel it.”

Grace sat down next to George, careful to keep their shoulders from touching.

“I hate not talking to him either.” She placed her head back on the sofa. “Honestly, I think I over reacted a bit. I guess I was just hurt and annoyed that you two shared that map with Lee, and not me.”

“You do love sneaking about the castle.”

“Exactly! I think I ought to talk to him after dinner.”

“Wanna go to the room?” George smiled at her.

“Umm, I think it ought to be just Fred and I.” Caught up in her own head, she missed the way his face fell. “If that’s alright?”

“Yeah, course.” He stood up, and extending out his right hand, pulled Grace from the couch. “Honestly, he’s better one on one.” He laughed, and still holding her hand, they made their way to the portrait hole. “Best get downstairs. Halloween’s your favorite meal after all, and you’ll need the energy to deal with my dear old brother.”

Grace squeezed his hand as he led her down the staircases and into the Great Hall, grateful for how understanding and supportive George was.

And thus, that was how Grace found herself in practically a Weasley sandwich, Percy on her left, Harry on her right, Ron and George on the other side of the table, and sitting directly across from her, Fred.

“Hey George?” Fred whipped his head towards his brother so fast, Grace thought he might end up giving Sir Nicolas a run for his galleons. “Can you pass me a scone?”

George nodded, and handing her the treat, shrugged at his brother and mouthed “I tried.”

To avoid making eye contact with the boy across from her, she took a large bite of her pumpkin scone, relishing the intricate flavours, and eyed Ron judgmentally as he double fisted a lolli and a heavily frosted piece of carrot cake.

“Whe- where’s Hermione?” Grace turned to look at Harry’s right; Harry was right to wonder, the spot to his right which was surprisingly empty, the bushy haired girl not sitting in her usual spot.

“Parvati Patil said that she wouldn’t come out of the girl’s bathroom.” Neville said leaning over, looking from Harry to Ron. “She said that she’d been in there all afternoon, crying.” Ron just shrugged as he took another bite into his cake, but Harry looked a bit anxious. He didn’t have long to think on his worry though, the large doors of the Great Hall swinging open to reveal a frantic Quirrell, screaming as he stumbled inside.

“Troll! In the dungeon! Troll in the dungeon.” Professor Quirrell came to a stop, his voice quivering as his body trembled. “Thought you ought to know.”

With a whimper and a loud thump, Quirrell’s body hit the ground, the professor seemingly fainting out of sheer fright. For a moment the hall was quiet, but a perfectly timed rumble of thunder set all the children screaming, some knocking over plates and goblets filled with delicious food in their hasty efforts to stand up.

Dumbledore raised to his feet, calling out, “Silence!”

The hall went still, the panicked students turning around to see their headmaster. “Everyone will please not panic. Now, prefects will lead their house back to the dormitories. Teachers will follow me to the dungeons.”

As Percy called out for the Gryffindors to follow him, Grace looked across the table at Fred and George and offered them a small smile. They followed the crowd out, but when the students began to split to go to their own common rooms, Grace pulled Fred out of the pack.

“Come on.” Fred raised an eyebrow, but nodded in agreement.

“George?” Fred asked, noticing that George hadn’t strayed off with them.

“Nah mate. See you both later.” With a wave, he vanished into the swarm of students and Grace tugged on Fred’s hand once again, leading them down the empty corridor.

* * *

“You know, we found this room on the map.” Fred watched as Grace made her way into the room, walking towards the large wooden table covered with ‘borrowed’ potions ingredients and scrap pieces of paper. It was nice to see her there again; despite it only being two weeks since she had last set foot in their secret hideout, her absence had been noticed, making the room seem colder.

She hummed in response. “I figured.”

Grace still hadn’t look him in the eye since practically dragging him down the hall to the small bell painting, and Fred knew that if he wanted everything to go back to the way things ought to be, he would have to step up and apologize.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you, in the corridor. I think I did, just because I was annoyed that you might be right about the map, and I didn’t want to hear it.” Fred scratched the back of his head, watching as Grace turned around to face him; she was picking at her nail lacquer, and Fred realized she was just as nervous as he was.

“I might have overreacted a bit.”

“I think we both did.” He laughed, attempting to calm both their nerves. “But still, I shouldn’t have done it.” He sobered for a moment. “I wanted to turn around the moment we left you in the hall; I was already feeling so guilty, but my pride wouldn’t let me. And then the next day, I had just hoped that we could put it behind us without me having to apologize. I was over it, but I should have realized that you weren’t.”

Grace nodded, finally releasing her hands, allowing Fred a view of her chipped purple lacquer. A strange sense of pride washed over him as he took in the colour; Grace was never particularly fond of purple, preferring navys and teals, but purple was his favourite colour. Despite her anger with him, she still chose purple, and that had to mean something, Fred thought.

“Thank you, for saying that.” Before Grace could say any more, Fred quickly walked across the room, enveloping her into a bone crushingly tight hug. After a few moments, she pushed back, forcing Fred to look down into her eyes. “I forgive you. However, if you ever try to trick me by playing whose Fredrick Weasley and swapping with your twin again, I will hex you into next Tuesday.”

Fred agreed, mildly terrified by the girl before him. “Never.”

“Good.” The took a step apart, both already missing the contact. “Suppose we should get back to the common room. Probably not the best idea to be wandering about with a troll on the loose.”

“Nah, trolls are right stupid.”

“What? Think you could take on a troll?”

“Are you doubting my abilities, Gracie?”

“And what would those be exactly?” She yelled back as she stepped from the painting into the empty hall, Fred’s merry laugh echoing through the passage as he followed closely behind, his comeback on the tip of his tongue.

* * *

Fred and Grace had both been in a better mood after their little chat, and George couldn’t be grateful; finally, the three of them were back together and things felt like they were almost back to the way they were before. But that wasn’t really true; despite them making up, Grace was still sitting with that Hufflepuff during Transfiguration and she spent quite a lot of time with him outside of class.

“How are you Harry?” Asked Fred, pulling George from his thoughts. The boy was nearly green with nerves, not that George could blame him; it was the first quidditch game of the season, and George knew all too well how nerve-wracking quidditch could be.

“Yeah, fine.” The small black-haired boy mumbled, gripping his new broom tightly against his chest. Locking eyes with his brother, they both leaned into tease him a bit more, when Angelina and Alicia entered the chaining room, adjusting their last bits of uniform.

“All I’m saying is that I think he fancies her, and I think she fancies him too.” Said Angelina, a little too loud for the obviously delicate nature of the conversation.

“I suppose, they have been spending quite an awful lot of time together.”

“Unless this conversation pertains to quidditch, I don’t wanna hear it.” Sighed Oliver.

“We might have found a way to knock Hufflepuff’s seeker off his game.” Angelina grinned.

“And?” asked Oliver, clearly interested.

“Just put Grace on the team and he’ll be easily distracted.”

“Too busy keeping his eyes on her, he won’t even see the snitch till Harry catches it!” Angelina and Alicia both giggled, clearly pleased with their little jest. George felt annoyed at the thought, and looking towards his brother, he realized he felt the same way.

“Is she a good flyer?” Asked Oliver, clearly considering the option.

“Terrible!” Fred nearly shouted.

“Fly’s like a fish!” Added George.

“Pity.” Oliver sighed. “Come on then.” He ushered his team towards the exit. “Let’s go kick some Slytherin arse.”


	16. A Very Happy Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> happy december!   
> i love the holiday season, but honestly loath the snow, and unfortunately where i live, we're about knee deep in the fluffy white shite right now.  
> you might have noticed i've decided to rename the chapters. got a bit bored of the old system; informative but a bit lazy, i must admit.  
> my finals are next week, so i won't be posting anything then, but once that's all over, i'm a free person, so hopefully this break will be chock full of new chapters.

The first thought that hit Grace as she stepped off the Hogwarts Express was that being picked up at Platform 9 ¾ by Molly Weasley was drastically different than being picked up by her own parents. Where Dominque and Lowrance were as cold and stoic as Greek statues, though her father had slightly warmed in the past few years, Molly Weasley was motherly and energetic, greeting the children, Grace included, with heartfelt embraces and kisses on cheeks. Already, she could tell, that this Christmas holiday would be eons beyond her last one, and reflected on how grateful she was that she wasn’t spending the holidays alone in the castle, or worse, in France with her Grandparents.

Following the elder Weasley, the three of them carried their small sacks, filled with just enough clothing for the holiday and plenty of space left to fill with gifts, they headed out of the station and towards Diagon Alley. Entering the Leakey Cauldron, Molly waved to Tom and lead the children towards the fireplace.

“Are we going to Floo, Mrs. Weasley?” Grace was astonished and a bit intrigued.

“Yes dear. Why do you ask?” The pudgy lady asked, turning around to offer the children each their own handful of powder.

“Well, I’ve never used the Floo Network before ma’am.”

“Really?” Asked Fred, amazed at the girl’s confession.

“Mum doesn’t really like it; she says it’s dirty.” Noticing their faces, she shook her head and continued. “But I must admit, it looks really exciting.”

Molly smiled, holding out the ceramic pot. “Would you like to go first?”

“Would I!” Grabbing her own dusty handful, Grace made her way into the fire place. “So, I just throw it down and say ‘The Burrow’?”

“Just like that, and be sure to articulate.”

Locking eyes with the twins, she threw down the powder and called out, disappearing into the bright green flames as they roared to life.

* * *

It took Grace a moment to realized where she was before she stepped out into the quaint living room, brushing the dust from her shoulders as she took in her surroundings. The Burrow, as lovely as it was during the summertime, was even more spectacular in the winter; the snow piling up on the window sill and the faint flickering of the stringed lights lining the room, made Grace smile with holiday cheer.

The fireplace roared to life once again as she made her way around the room, Fred stepping through, followed shortly by George, and finally Mrs. Weasley.

“Daaaaad!” Ginny ran into the room at the sound of the Floo going off, a big smile on her face as she took in the soot covered group. “They’re home!”

Arthur Weasley looked as cheerful as Grace remembered, and despite the gingerness of him, with his rosy cheeks she thought he would make quite a good Father Christmas if he were so inclined. He stepped forward, placing a kiss on his wife’s cheek, lingering for a moment before pulling back to smile down at the three children.

“Have you grown even more?” He exclaimed, pulling the twins into tight hugs, holding only tighter still as they tried to wiggle away, attempting to maintain some sense of dignity in front of their friend.

“Maybe you’re just getting shorter.” Fred huffed, finally free from his father’s arms, cheeks slightly pink from embarrassment.

“In my old age, I just might be.” Arthur laughed, ruffling his son’s hair. “And how are you Grace?”

“Quite well Mr. Weasley. Thank you so much for having me for Christmas.”

“Happy you could come.”

She beamed back at the older man.

“Now,” Molly clapped her hands, drawing their attention, “I’m sure you’re all hungry. Ginny, why don’t you show Grace to your room so she can unpack, and your father and I will get dinner ready.”

Emboldened by the power given to her to show Grace the lay of the house, Ginny took her by the hand, and with a strength often unseen in a 11-year-old, dragged Grace up the many flights of stairs to her bedroom.

“I’ve never shared my room before.” Explained Ginny, opening the door to reveal the blush pink room. It was small, the two twin beds barley fit, nearly touching as to make room to walk in and out, but the window, which was overlooking the orchard behind the house, had a sill just large enough to sit on and let it ample amounts of light, even in the early winter evening. Pointing to the bed nearest the door, indicating that one was for the guest, Ginny continued.

“Bill and Charlie did for a while, then Charlie and Percy, but now he’s got his own since Charlie’s in Romania, and the twins have always shared of course. Ron and I never have though, suppose there’s no need.” Grace nodded along, attempting to show interest. “It nice to share a room. I think sometimes it gets lonely sleeping alone.”

Grace had to agree.

“That’s one thing I like about Hogwarts,” Grace sat down across from Ginny, giving her a soft smile, “getting to share a room with my friends.”

“You don’t have to share at home?”

“There’s no one for me to share with. I haven’t got any siblings, not like you.”

“None! At all!” Growing up with such a big family, Ginny had just assumed that was the norm. “That must be really lonely.”

“I suppose it can be, sometimes. I must admit that I’m quite jealous of you, I’ve always wanted a sibling or two.”

“Well,” Ginny was suddenly very serious, “you can take Ronald then; always thought it’d be nice to have one less brother.”

Grace laughed, “That’s awfully nice of you.”

Sensing the conversation was over, Ginny had become far more interested in her quidditch magazine, perusing an article about Gwenog Jones and her recent appointment as Captain of the Holyhead Harpies, Grace began to unpack her things. Carefully placing her few sweaters and trousers into the drawer Mrs. Weasley had cleaned out for her, and after making sure they were neatly folded and all visible, pulled out the rest of her clothing and the bits of toiletries she brought as well.

“So, whose girlfriend are you?”

The question was blunt in a manner that only young children were capable of, being unbothered by the rules of polite conversation, and Grace was slightly taken aback, having expected Ginny to behave in the roundabout way the twins normally did.

“Girlfriend?”

Ginny nodded, as if she had simply stated the obvious conclusion.

“I’m not anyone’s girlfriend.” Grace said.

“Oh.” Ginny thought for a moment. “Do you want to be their girlfriend?”

Grace was glad to be facing away at that moment, fearing that Ginny might be able to spot the warmth steadily crawling up her cheeks had she not been busying herself at the dresser.

“Of course not. And anyway, I don’t even fancy them, either of them.”

“Well, you must fancy someone.” Ginny insisted. “I think everyone must fancy someone at least a little.”

Grace turned around, tilting her head as she took in the small red head sitting before her. Perhaps she was too quick to judge her, Ginny was far more like her brothers than Grace had first assumed; yes, Ginny was quite like Fred and George, just as stubborn as they were when they got their teeth sunk in something.

“I don’t think that’s necessarily true.”

“And I think you fancy them.” She crossed her arms, and Grace quickly realized that this argument was getting nowhere.

“Alright.” She said, taking a seat on her bed, old springs creaking at the added weight. “Say I did fancy one of them, would that be a problem?”

Ginny looked at her for long while before deciding on her answer.

“Not for one of them.”

Blinking at the shock of Ginny’s statement, Grace had not expected that to be her answer, she tried to find the words to respond, but was thankfully saved by Molly’s yell from the bottom floor, calling them to supper.

* * *

The holiday was flying by fast, Grace found herself lamenting as she sat on the floor of the twins’ bedroom. Ginny and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were still sleeping, the sun just having rose a few minutes ago, but the three of them were wide awake, the allure of presents and good food pulling them out of bed earlier than normal. She had crept from the room she shared with Ginny, hoping that they twins were awake, wanting to spend some time with them before the world had risen.

“Don’t suppose we should wake them?” Asked George, picking at the skin around his fingers, obviously bored.

“And spoil all this fun we're having?”

Fred’s sarcasm wasn’t lost on the group, but none of them moved; despite their want to get started with the day, they were enjoying spending some time together, just the three of them. They hadn’t really gotten the chance all break, being far too busy helping around the house, and even when they did have down time, Ginny was always tagging along.

Fred had never really minded Ginny spending time with him and George, in fact he quite enjoyed his little sister’s company, far more than Ron's or Percy’s, but for some reason, this holiday, he found himself wishing that she would spend her time elsewhere, so that he, George, and Grace could be alone. He had asked her to do so, saying that he needed some time alone, but when she questioned why Grace’s presence wasn’t considered infringing on his alone time, and having no real good response for her, allowed her to stay.

“I am having fun though.”

Both Fred and George looked to Grace’s spot on the floor. She had pulled her hair back into loose plait, pieces not quite long enough spilled out around her face, and she tugged on her green checkered pajama sleeve, trying to straighten out the creases caused by sleep.

“Yeah, we are too.” Responded Fred, his words coming out far softer than he had expected.

“Course we are.” Added George.

“Though that might not be much coming from you two.” She mocked. “You could have fun in a padded room so long as you’re together.”

“I feel like she’s insulting us, Forge.”

“I think you might be right, Gred.”

Fred hopped off his bed and in a blink of an eye, pulled her into a headlock, only slightly looser than one he would put George in. George jumped to her other side, crushing in on her as Fred messed up her already loose braid, causing the tie to fall out. The boys merciless attacked her, and she laughed as she cried out.

“All right, all right! Enough, you win!”

“Win what exactly?”

The three broke apart at the sound of Molly Weasley’s questioning voice; she was stood at the entrance of the twins’ room, powder blue night gown tied tightly around her, wearing a surprisingly fluffy pair of bright pink slippers, obviously having just woken up. Arthur and Ginny peeked around the door frame as well, and Grace moved to stand up, having to practically pushing George off her in order to do so.

“Good morning Mrs. Weasley.”

Grace looked down at the floor. She was nervous, and a bit scared. While Mrs. Weasley was different from her mother, in almost every single way, the look in her eyes as she spotted the three of them huddled together on the floor, reminded her so much of Dominque. It was the same look of incredulousness and disappointment that her mother always seemed to have whenever she was near, and Grace had immediately jumped at the sight of it, hoping to not anger the Weasley matriarch any further.

Molly blinked. Grace was shaking slightly, head tilted down in shame, and any anger she had towards the three of them quickly dissipated at the sight of the anxious girl.

“Happy Christmas Grace.” The girls head shot up, and she smiled. “Come on you three, let's head downstairs and we can get started on breakfast.”

Shock of the morning forgotten, Fred and George happily raced each other down the stairs, followed by a much calmer Grace and Ginny, excitedly chatting amongst themselves about presents and sweets.

* * *

“Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley.” Grace handed them the ornately wrapped presents she had taken from under the tree. “My parents picked them out, well my dad, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all dear,” Mrs. Weasley smiled, “I’m sure we’ll love it.”

Gently, they both ripped open their packages, struggling a bit with the tightly tied bows. Pulling off the lid, Molly gasped in surprise at the new cookware; some French brand she had read about in Witches’ Weekly which was said to be all the rage on the continent. Arthur, though not an avid smoker, thanked the girl anyway as he inspected the finely rolled Cuban cigars. A small piece of paper, affixed to the lid of the box, informed the reader that the cigars were in fact enchanted; whenever the smoker blew out, the exhale would take the shape of some animal or another before disappearing, and Arthur had to admit he was quite curious to see it work.

Ginny quickly tore through her package, pulling out an assortment of hair accessories all the rage to any 90’s girl, butterfly clips and scrunchies included. From Ginny, Grace had received some homemade chocolate strawberries that Molly had helped her make a few days ago, while she and the boys were busy do chores around the house.

Molly motioned for the children to open the gifts from them next, pointing towards four large string wrapped presents nestled under the tree.

“We match.” Said George, seeing the jumper Grace had just unwrapped.

It was navy, with a large embroidered orange G right in the center, and the material was soft to the touch. Grace turned to get a good look of George’s, and he was right; their sweaters were identical, same navy background, same orange G.

“You have to let me borrow that sometime.” Said Fred, crawling up next to her to try and snatch it from her hands. “I’ve always wanted to borrow Ginny’s, but she’s too small. Could barely fit that over my head.”

“And what exactly am I supposed to do then?”

Fred shrugged. “Just wear mine. You wouldn’t deny me the laugh, would you?”

Grace blushed ever so slightly at the idea of borrowing Fred’s sweater, but shook it off, and sticking out her tongue, pulled the fabric over her head.

“Here.” She said, handing the two boys each a small box wrapped in gold and red striped paper. They opened them, eyebrows furrowing in confusion at what was inside.

“What’s this?” Fred asked, holding up the small silver bar and passing it to his father.

“They’re tie clips.” Grace answered, nervously watching as they observed their gifts. “Dad says every respectable young man ought to have at least one."

“What’s it for?” George asked, pressing it open and closed.

“To hold your tie.”

“Why would I need a clip to hold my tie?”

“I… I have no idea.”

“Well, I think they’re lovely.” Said Molly, coming to the girl’s aid.

“Dad picked them out. I wanted to get you two something from Zonko’s, but he insisted.”

“I like it.” Fred took the clip back from his father and attached it to his jumper, George doing the same. “And besides, it kinda fits.”

“Fits?”

As an answer, George handed her their present, not nearly as neatly wrapped as any of hers had been, but she noticed and appreciated the effort they had obviously put in. Nestled in a bit of newspaper, a few months old from the look of the articles, was a small silver hair pin of a bird in mid-flight.

“Oh, I love it.” She gushed, much to the pride of both boys. “Where did you get it?”

She turned the pin over in her hand, enjoying the way the sting lights reflected of its polished surface.

“Uhhh.” They both cast their father a quick glance before looking towards their mother, clearly hesitating.

“Arthur! Did you take those two to that muggle town? What have we talked about you taking them there; do you not remember what happened last time?”

Apparently, sometime during their last trip to the village, Fred and George had snuck away from their father, who was far too engrossed in his conversation with the local mechanic to pay enough attention to the two rambunctious boys. And, taking advantage of the situation, as they were known to do, proceeded to replace all of the sweets sat in the bowl on the Corner Shop’s counter with Zonko’s Hiccough Sweets. Needless to say, by the time they took their leave of the village, nearly all of the children and most adults were hiccoughing up a storm. Arthur might have been inclined to believe it was a coincidence, if not for the mischievous grins on both boys' faces.

When Molly had found out, she yelled at the boys for a bit, then made them clean all of the dishes after dinner by hand.

“I kept my eye on them the whole time, so no harm done. And anyway, apparently, they had seen that pin the last time we were there and wanted to go back to get it for Grace. Who was I to say no?”

“I suppose.” Said Molly, slightly glaring at the two boys. “And it is Christmas.”

Fred perked up, “Exactly, It’s Christmas. Only went there to get the present.”

“No tomfoolery involved.” Added George, batting his eyes in a way Grace assumed was meant to prove his innocence.

“All right.” She sighed, holding back a laugh. “That’s enough from you two. It is a lovely gift.” She leaned over Grace’s shoulder to get a better look. “What kinda bird is it?”

Fred and George looked at each other before shrugging.

“It’s a magpie.” Answered Grace. “There’s a tree outside my bedroom window,” she explained, “and I think there’s a nest in there, though I’ve never seen more than two of them."

“It’s beautiful boys.” Molly smiled, rising from her seat to kiss them each of them on the cheek. “I think that has been a very Happy Christmas, don’t you think Arthur?”

“I agree.” He stood up, and with a wave of his wand, the discarded wrappings disappeared. “Why don’t you four play around for a little while your mother and I start on the roast. We’ll call you when we need your help.”

The children nodded and scurried up their stairs, grateful as to not be roped into another cooking session on Christmas, already tired from helping make breakfast that morning.

“Oh,” squealed Molly, “I can use that new roasting pan.”

“That the one that announces when the meats to temperature?” Smiled Arthur, pleased to see his wife so happy. She had told him about the set of course, and while sightly disappointed that he wasn’t able to purchase it for his wife himself, was happy that she got it none the less.

“Just the one.”

Molly marched into the kitchen, and Arthur followed, ducking just in time to avoid being hit by the heavy roasting pan floating behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> does anyone else know that rhyme about magpies? quite fitting, i suppose; you can see why george and fred have them as their patronuses.


	17. A Triad By Any Other Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> semester is over friends!  
> here's a short chapter in celebration!

“So, how’s Professor Kettleburn? Any more limbs gone missing?” Arthur asked, adjusting the yellow Christmas Cracker crown haphazardly placed on his head by Ginny.

“Nah.” Responded George. He passed a bowl of mash to Grace, holding it as she scooped a large dollop, plopping it besides her roast. “Got close to it a few times though, ‘specially with that fire crab.”

“Ought to retire before he loses any more. He looks like a pirate, peg leg and all.” Grace added.

Fred laughed, “All he’s missing is one of those talking birds.”

“That would be quite the picture.”

“Are you also taking Divination and Muggle Studies with the boys, Grace?”

Grace looked at the head of the table towards Mr. Weasley, a bright smile on his face, and for a moment considered lying to him as to not disappoint him, but decided that would be a bit ridiculous.

“Divination yes, but I’m taking Arithmancy instead. Mother thought Muggle Studies would be a waste-”

“Yeah, that’s what she said.” Muttered an annoyed George.

“And I agreed that Arithmancy would be more beneficial in the future.”

“More like she forced you to change.” Muttered an equally annoyed Fred.

“Do you at least enjoy the class, dear?” Asked Molly.

“Oh yes. I do, actually.”

“Better than Divination at least.” Fred made a very pointed movement, rolling his at the apparent lunacy of the class and its teacher.

“Ugh.” Grace scoffed, crossing her arms as she did, not wanting to talk nor even think about Professor Trelawney. Honestly, if she wasn’t so afraid of the ramifications of dropping a class, she wouldn’t have stayed past that first day.

“Trelawney, she’s bloody mental.” Said Fred, earning a sharp look from his mother.

“He’s not wrong.” Added George, coming to his brother’s defense. “Should have seen her our first day of class, almost broke Grace’s hand the way she was holding on so tight.”

“Eyes nearly popped out of her head.”

“Muttering to herself non-stop.”

“Why Dumbledore let her be a teacher, I'll never know.”

“Though she’s right good for a laugh.”

“And the room’s warm enough for a nap.”

“Her hand?” Molly interrupted the boys’ banter, looking at Arthur from across the table as she served herself a bit more greens. “Why was she holding your hand?”

Grace just shrugged. “We were doing palmistry, guess she wanted to check us or something?” She poured a bit of gravy on her mash before continuing. “You’d assume she’d at least get my name right though.”

Fred and George nodded along as she complained, Molly and Arthur both watching in hesitant concern.

Arthur leaned forward. “Your name?”

“Called her Marnie or something.” Fred said, biting into a freshly buttered scone.

“Marlene.” Corrected George.

The dish and serving spoon Molly was holding clattered to the floor, shattering into small porcelain pieces, bits of green bean and onion scattered about, but she hardly seemed to notice. No; she was far too busy looking between Grace and the twins, fear etched in her dark brown eyes.

“Molly!” Arthur stood up, and with a flick of his wand the mess cleaned itself, the dish repairing as if never having been broken and the food disappearing into nothingness.

“Oh, I…” She shook her head and stood up, but it was obvious to Arthur that she had no idea what to do, and turning to the children, shooed them out of the kitchen with the promise of pudding later.

Finally alone, he turned to his wife only to see her clutching the table, one hand brought to her mouth, in either fear or shock, he couldn’t say. He reached forward and brushed her cheek.

“We have to tell them.” She said from behind her hand, and Arthur nodded in acknowledgement. “Soon, but not yet. We ought to let them be children for a little while longer.”

* * *

Growing up, the Prewett’s Christmas Holiday was always a quiet affair; just the 5 of them, Mum, Dad, Fabian, Gideon, and Molly. And to be honest, they liked it that way. But then, Molly graduated from Hogwarts, and her family grew, first with Arthur, then with Bill, and finally Marlene.

She was 20 that year, when she first met Marlene; a loud mouth thing, rather tall for her age, who was quite a fan of some Muggle sport called Rugby, contently wearing all sorts of bright two-toned striped shirts around the house. Despite not being a metamorphmagus, she was quite fond of changing up her hair colour, going as far as to even dye her eyebrows red and green for the occasion. Molly found herself quite liking her, despite the unconventionalness.

Molly had gone upstairs to call the children to supper when she heard them muttering to themselves through the small crack in Gideon’s bedroom door. They were talking about something she didn’t quite understand, and peeking in, watched as they attempted to cast a spell she had never heard of.

“ _Tribus_.” Gideon said, furrowing his eyebrows in frustration as nothing happened.

“I think you need to flourish it more.” Said Marlene, crawling up next to him, glancing down at a book he had laid across his lap. “The book says it has to be grandiose.”

“I think I know what I’m doing.” Snapped Gideon, twirling his wand once again.

“I’m sure you think you do.” Responded Fabian, rolling his eyes at his brother.

“Let me give it another try.” Marlene snatched the book from Gideon, and moving her wand in a circular motion, said, “ _Tribus._ ”

The end of her wand flickered a deep green before fading away, and she and the boys watched in silent amazement.

“Ha!” Cried Fabian. “She got it even before you, Gibs.”

“Show off.” He crossed his arms. “She only got one colour, so it’s not that impressive.”

“Better than you.” Marlene said quite smugly. “You couldn’t even make anything happen.”

Fabian placed his hand on Marlene’s cheek and pulled her in for a quick kiss, smiling as they parted.

“Quite the talented one, isn’t she?” He joked to his brother.

Molly had been wondering what exactly Marlene’s relationship was with the boys, assuming that she might be dating one of them and friends with the other, and was pleased to see that she was right. She was about to fully open the door and step into the room; she had been standing there for quite a while, and Arthur and her parents were bound to start wondering what was taking them so long, when she suddenly stopped, too shocked at the sight before her to move any further.

As Fabian pulled back from Marlene, Gideon grabbed her wrist, and pulled her towards him, kissing her as well. Marlene sighed into the kiss, and Gideon slipped his hand in her hair, bringing her ever closer. Fabian looked quite content, watching his brother and Marlene, and trailed his fingers down her arm, causing her to shiver at his delicate touch, reaching out to pull him close as well.

“What on Godric’s green earth are you three doing?” Yelled Molly, barreling into the room, mouth open in shock as she took in the wide-eyed teens.

They jumped up, causing the old leather spell book that had been resting on Marlene’s lap to thud to the floor.

“Have you lost your senses? You’re 16, you’re not children, not stupid enough to not understand the depravity of…” she waved her hands frantically, “of all of this.”

“Molly, you don’t-” Began one of her brothers, but she refused to listen.

“Don’t you even start. And you!” She turned to Marlene, who was partially shielded behind one of her brother’s shoulders. “How dare you play them like this?”

“Don’t talk to her like that!” One of them shouted.

Heavy footsteps ran up the stairs and Molly turned to see her parents and husband, Bill clung to Arthur’s back, frantically searching the room for what was wrong.

“Molly?” Asked her father, looking between the four of them.

“They…” Molly pointed at the three teens, unable to vocalize what she had just seen. “They…”

There was a pause, her father made his way into the room and placed his hand on her back, watching his sons and Marlene all the while.

“We know.”

“You know?”

He nodded, guiding her to sit on her brother’s bed, and took her hand in his.

“Molly, do you-”

“-need any help?” Molly jumped at the intrusion, nearly dropping the metal container she was holding on the floor.

She turned around to see Grace peeking into the kitchen, a red ribbon stuck precariously on her head, no doubt placed there by one of the twins.

“Um. Set this on the stove, would you?” Molly pointed to a large brass pot, nearly filled to the brim with a thick dark brown liquid; taking a sniff, Grace smiled as the rich smell of chocolate and cinnamon hit her nose. Once it was placed, Molly tapped the edge of the pot and slowly the mixture started to bubble, steam wafting from it as the temperature rose.

“What’s that spell?” Grace asked, clearly in amazement.

Growing up the way that she did, no one would be surprised to find out that she had no knowledge of household spells; it was not as if her parents had ever done any cooking or cleaning for her to have learned from, so she found herself quite interested in Molly’s everyday magic. There was a practicality to it, and Grace quite liked practicality, especially in magic.

They ought to teach every day spells to all students at Hogwarts, Grace mused, watching as the kitchen roared to life at Molly’s fast paced wand movements. Honestly, she was sure she wasn’t the only pure-blood who could use the education, and surely the muggle borns would benefit as well. Despite her like of Arithmancy, she would gladly drop the class should Hogwarts ever add a Home Spells class to the curriculum.

“Oh,” Molly smiled, please that she was curious, “it’s _Califac._ All you need to do it picture whatever liquid you have- water, milk, what have you- piping hot, then tap the container it’s in.”

“ _Califac._ ” Grace repeated, miming tapping her wand, which was packed away in her bag in Ginny’s room, against the edge of the pot.

“Have you enjoyed your holiday so far?”

“Oh, honestly Mrs. Weasley, this has been the best Christmas I’ve ever had. Thank you so much for having me.”

“Of course, dear. And you ought to call me Molly, you’re practically family.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Thank you, Molly. Thank you very much.”


	18. Magazines And Puffapods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the kids are actually taking classes? surprise, surprise. 
> 
> during break, i hope to keep up a more consistent schedule; expect something on tuesdays, and maybe saturdays if i'm feeling ambitious.
> 
> also, thank you for all of the kudos, bookmarks, and comments. i can't believe we have over 150 kudos, ya'll are too much!

The three girls crowded on Angelina’s bed, crushed together flipping through a muggle magazine called _Cosmopolitan_ , something Angelina’s older cousin had given her before she left for school. They were currently taking a quiz on whether or not they were more of a Rob Lowe or a Johnny Depp kind of girl, and despite neither Grace nor Alicia having any idea who either man was, found themselves quite enjoying the quiz. Angelina and Grace were both dubbed Johnny’s girls, while Alicia claimed Rob.

“I suppose I do fancy older men.” Said Angelina, laying back on her bed.

“I’m not sure.” Said Grace, joining her. “What about what happens when you get older?”

“What about when we're older?”

“They’ll be older! Even older than they are now.”

“They’ll be grey when you're still in your twenties.” Added Alicia.

“And? Haven’t you heard of a silver fox?”

“Isn’t that a kind of animal?” Asked Alicia.

“Dunno. But I heard my cousin say, that there is this older guy at her work, who is such a sliver fox. So, it’s like, a thing, liking older guys.”

“But not that much older.” Insisted Alicia.

“How much older is fine for you then?”

Alicia shrugged; “Two years?”

“Boring.” Angelina scoffed.

“I don’t know. I like the idea of someone my own age; we could go grey together.” Grace said.

“That’s even worse!” Angelina giggled, nudging Grace’s shoulder. “Honestly you two, so boring. Next you’re gunna tell me you wanna marry some dopy ministry worker.”

“I have better taste than that.” Insisted Alicia. “I much prefer quidditch players.”

Angelina and Grace thought for a moment, before nodding in agreement.

“Did you hear from your parents over break? Weren’t they in France?” Asked Alicia, laying across Angelina to get a bit closer.

“Um, yeah, they were.” Grace moved to sit up and shrugged. “They might still be, I’m not sure.”

“You don’t know?” Alicia was astonished.

“Didn’t they send you anything?” Asked Angelina, not being able to imagine her own parents treating her such.

“No, but it’s not like I needed anything. I’ve got plenty.”

“Still, it’s Christmas.” Whined Angelina.

“They could have at least sent you a book or something.” Added Alicia. “Not that hard to owl from France. My gran sends me one at least once a month, and that’s all the ways from Denmark.”

“It doesn’t bother me, really. And, I’m sure they brought something back from France; they’ll probably send it sometime soon, or maybe just give it to me after term ends. Honestly, it might just be too expensive to owl, family jewels or such. Stuff they wouldn’t want stolen in the mail.” Grace, clearly agitated, flipped her hair as she hooped off the bed, making her way towards the dormitory door. “I’m going for a walk. See you two later.”

Alicia and Angelina jumped as she slammed the door behind her, disappearing off to wherever she did when she was annoyed or upset.

“Maybe we ought not to have pushed it?” Sighed Alicia, lying back down on the bed.

“Maybe.” Angelina agreed, picking back up the magazine, searching for an interesting article she saw on the cover.

* * *

“Morning.” Cedric grinned, slipping into the seat besides Grace for their early History of Magic class. Binns had already started warbling on about the magical influences during the Battle of Hastings in 1066, something they had covered in their last term, but neither the professor nor the students seemed to care.

“Morning, how was your holiday?” Grace smiled, placing down her unused quill, taking notes quite pointless at this point.

“Really good actually. Mum’s family came up from Kent, and I got a new broom.” Cedric pulled out a picture of himself and two others, who Grace assumed were his parents, grinning brightly holding out his new broom for the camera to see.

“A new broom? That’ll make you quite the seeker to beat.”

“Hope so, might actually be able to catch up to Potter and his Nimbus 2000.”

“As a Gryffindor, I hope you don’t. As your friend, I hope you do.”

“And you? You spend the holiday with the Weasleys didn’t you?” Asked Cedric.

“Yes, I did. It was really nice; I had a great time.”

Looking back towards the front of the class, Grace watched as a bit of wadded up parchment passed through Binns’ head, the ghost hardly noticing as he continued to float at his desk. Turning around, she spotted the Weasley twins, wands out, clearly attempting to fling whatever random things they could towards the professor, marking down in a small notebook whenever something hit its target.

“How much is it for the head?” Grace whispered.

“20 points.” Responded Fred, flicking his wand, sending a bit of eraser through Binns’ right arm.

“5 for the chest, 10 for the legs and arms, and 20 for the head.” Added George, picking up the notebook to show her the running tally; George was winning, but not by much.

Crumpling up a bit of parchment, Grace muttered to herself and flicking her wand, sending the ball flying across the room, passing cleanly through the ghost’s hovering head.

“Ha, mark that down boys!” Grace said gleefully, turning proudly to look at the two of them.

“Yeah, yeah.” Said Fred.

“Like to see her do it again.” Mumbled George.

“Beginners luck.” Added Fred.

“They’re just jealous that you’re so good without trying.” Cedric interrupted the twins’ rambling, causing Grace to blush ever so slightly.

“There’s no need to flatter her like that, pretty boy.” Fred shot.

“Don’t wanna make her head any bigger than it is already.” Continued George.

“Prats.” Grace stuck her tongue out, and turning back to the front of the room, pretended to pay attention to the professor’s ramblings.

“Of course,” the professor’s ghostly voiced wailed, “while William the Conqueror, despite having no magical abilities himself, had many wizards and witches on his side, including his trusted confidant and cousin, Alan the Red, and his wife, Matilda of Flanders, the battle was ultimately won by the Prowse magical twins and their triad, whose name is unfortunately lost to history.”

“I like to flatter her though; her cheeks get all red. It’s cute.” Cedric said to the boys, turning back to Grace, failing to notice the glares they both sent his way.

But Grace was hardly paying the three of them any attention; for the first time in her three years at Hogwarts, she was genuinely interested in what Binns had to say. It was common knowledge that William the Conqueror won Britain with the help of French witches and wizards, evident in the amount of old pure-blood British families who still retained some French influence on their names, the Malfoys and Zastras for example, but the terms magical twins and triad were something she had not heard before, nor read in any of her textbooks.

She went to raise her hand, wanting to know more about the Prowse magical twins, Binns having already moved on to a completely different subject, when Cedric nudged her shoulder.

“Say, Grace?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?” He asked, full of confidence. “Just the two of us?” Grace blinked, question forgotten, and looking back at Fred and George for a brief moment, searching for something neither boy offered her, turned back to Cedric, and tucked a bit of stray hair behind her ear.

“Yeah, sure.”

* * *

Grace waved her friends off as they exited the classroom, saying that she would join them shortly once she asked professor Binns a question, none of them wanting to wait with her if they had to suffer through what no doubt would be a lengthy explanation.

“Pardon me professor, I wondered if I could ask a question about today’s lesson?”

The ghost’s eyebrows slowly rose, clearly surprised that any students would stay after class, as it was not a very common occurrence, even when Binns was still alive.

“You may.” He groaned.

“Well, you referred to two things that I’m not quite sure what they are; you’ve never mentioned them before, I don’t think, and I’ve never come across them in any of the assigned reading either.”

“And what exactly did I mention?”

“You said something about magical twins and a triad. What are they?”

Binns adjusted his spectacles and leaned forwards, stopping only a few inches from her face.

“Magical twins are essentially twins who share a single soul. Their magic is split between the two of them, making them weak when separated, but a force to be reckoned with when together. Ran in the Prowse family long before they changed their name, while they were still in France, and even before then.”

“And a triad?”

“It would be what you would assume it to be, when the soul of a set of magical twins is split once more, connecting them to a third.”

“Like a triplet?”

“Not at all.” Professor Binns frowned, looking the girl up and down as he hovered behind his desk. “I am surprised that you do not know more about this, seeing as you are such good friends with Molly Prewett’s boys.”

“You mean Fred and George? But they’re…”

“The most recent set of Prewett magical twins, or at least one would assume. As I have said, it does tend to run in their family.”

Grace opened her mouth to respond, rebuke Binns’ idea that the twins were this so-called magical twin thing, feeling the need to tell her ghostly professor that the idea was simply impossible, when he lifted a translucent hand, cutting her off.

“I have my fifth-year class in ten minutes, so unless you are looking to take your O.W.L.s two years early, I suggest you head to your next class, and focus on your current curriculum.”

“Yes, of course professor.” Grace shifted to pick up her bag, shoving a few papers inside, and clipping the buckles ran out of the classroom, already dreading the dentition she would receive for being late to potions.

* * *

Double Herbology was taxing enough at 3 in the afternoon on a Friday, but seeing as it was first pleasant day since the Christmas holidays, the call of the weekend and the excitement for the first Hogsmeade trip of the term, made paying attention even more difficult. Grace was currently elbow deep in dirt, a handful of puffapods floating above her head, waiting to be potted, but instead she was thinking over what exactly she should wear this weekend. Angelina had suggested a yellow long sleeve shirt with a jean jacket over it, Alicia honestly didn’t care, and Fred and George had joked that she should just wear her school robes as to not waste too much effort on the so called ‘pretty boy’.

“Don’t listen to them, they’re just jealous.” Angelina assured Grace, throwing the twins a dirty look from across the table. “Cedric’s more handsome than the two of them combined, and they don’t like that all the girls have a crush on him and not them.”

“Though, if you think about it, them combined is still just one of them.” Added Lee. “So, it’s hardly a fair fight.”

“All right then,” Angelina crossed her arms, “who do you think is fitter; Cedric or the twins?”

Lee scoffed. “Cedric, by a mile.”

“Hey!” Objected Fred and George.

“What? I’ve got eyes.” Shrugged Lee.

“Maybe you ought to wear that silver hair pin you’ve got.” Said Alicia, changing the subject. “The one that’s in your trunk. It’s really pretty.”

The pods floating around Grace dropped to the ground as she lost her concentration, large pink and purple flowers sprouting all around her the moment they hit the greenhouse floor.

“Miss Zastra!” Cried professor Sprout. “Five points from Gryffindor! What did I say about those puffapods?”

Grace hung her head low; “To not let them touch anything solid unless it was the potting soil.”

“Correct. Now clean those up.” Grace dropped to her knees, quickly gathering up the rapidly growing plants.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” Said Alicia, joining her on the floor.

“Don’t worry about it, I just got distracted.”

Having finally collected all of the flowers, both girls walked over to the wooden basket in the corner of the room, and threw the ever-growing plants into the bin, quickly dumping some dirt on top to prevent them from getting ever larger.

“I just thought it would look nice with your hair colour and all.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll wear it for this.”

“What? Too fancy?” Asked Angelina, rejoining the conversation.

“No, it’s just…” Grace looked up to see the twins watching her quite intensely, “It’s special to me, I’d just rather not, you know.”

“I suppose.” Shrugged Alicia.

“Yeah, and your hair is so nice, you probably should wear it down anyways, rather than pin it up.” Angelina reached forward and pulled on Grace’s braid. “Anyways, I’ve heard that boys like it when your hair is down more than when it’s up.”

“Where’d you learn that?” Asked Fred, eyebrows raised.

“Just some magazine.” She answered, waving him off.

“Sounds like a load of rubbish to me.” Scoffed George, and turning back to his own pot, quickly planted a puffapod seed in the soil, earning him a nod of approval from Professor Sprout as it sprouted into a well sized pink and purple flower.


	19. A Magical Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace and Cedric have their date, and we explore a little bit more just what exactly a magical twin is.

Cedric scuffed his shoe nervously on the ground, kicking up a bit of snow and dirt as he did so; it was already a quarter past 12, Grace had promised to meet him exactly at noon, and Cedric was beginning to wonder if she was going to show up at all. He had gone out on a limb asking Grace to Hogsmeade, not that he wasn’t sure she’d say yes, they were friends after all if their study slash gossip sessions were anything to prove, but he was nervous about what it might mean to her, nervous about what it meant to him.

Recently, some of Cedric’s friends had started talking about girls in ways they hadn’t before; talking about how Yasmine had really developed over the summer, and wondering aloud how great of a snog Chole must be with those full lips of hers. And while Cedric really didn’t necessarily agree with them about Yasmine’s blossoming bosom or Chole’s kissability, he did have some relatively new thoughts of his own. And while not all of them revolved around Grace, a good enough amount did, causing him to get just a little bit giddy whenever she was around.

Cedric enjoyed spending time with Grace; she was nice and interesting and easy to talk to, and Cedric could see himself snogging her if he thought about it enough, so he assumed that he must fancy her, or else he would have been much more annoyed when 20 minutes after their scheduled time, Grace arrived, breathing heavily as if she had run all the ways from the castle.

“Cedric!” She cried, coming to a stop before him. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”

Taking her in, Cedric tried to hold back a laugh; not only was she red in the face from running, but the legs of her jeans were dripping wet and her hair was all mussed up, looking as if she had just rolled out of bed. Reaching forward, he brushed a bit of errant snow from her hair as she groaned out her explanation.

“Fred and George thought it would be a brilliant idea to start a snowball fight in the Courtyard as I was leaving to head here. And Fred and George being Fred and George, decided to charm some snowballs to chase after people, and it was actually funny when they kept hitting Quirrell in the back of the head, but then they started sending them after me, and then they messed up my hair and got my pants all rui-”

“Hey!” Cedric put his hands on her shoulders, effectively cutting off her ramblings, realizing if he didn’t stop her now, she would have kept going until she passed out. “No need to apologize. I’m glad you’re here.”

“So am I. But still, I am sorry.” She shrugged sheepishly.

“Not your fault. Though, I might have to have a talking too with those Weasleys when we get back.” He grinned, taking his hands off her shoulders and starting to walk down the path to the Three Broomsticks.

“Eh, good luck.” Grace laughed, imagining Cedric in Molly Weasley’s apron, waving a wooden spoon at the twins as he chastised them.

“What?” Asked Cedric, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t think I will?”

“I just can’t imagine it going over well; Fred and George don’t take well to reprimand, or criticism, or any semblance of authority, really. I mean, you see the way the act around Percy, or even the teachers.”

“They listen to you though.” Cedric said, a bit of seriousness in his tone.

“When it pleases them.” Grace brushed off his statement, not really wanting to talk about the twins much more, especially on what she assumed was a date.

“I suppose it makes sense. You three being so close an all.”

“I’m their friend.” She stated.

“More like their triplet.”

Grace stopped, blinking at boy before her as he turned around, realizing that she was no longer in step with him.

“What?” She asked.

Cedric opened him mouth, seemingly lost for words at the utter shock on Grace’s face. “I just mean, you three are so close, have been since day one, since the sorting ceremony.” He quickly answered.

“Right.” She shook her head, and attempting a smile, continued. “Though, I think I’d look a fright with red hair, so luckily I’m not.”

Placing his forefinger and thumb on his face, he began to stroke his chin as if stroking an invisible beard, tilting his head to observe her.

“Yeah. I much prefer you like this.” He grinned.

Grace scoffed, cheeks flushing a slight pink. “Glad we agree.” Rolling her eyes, she stepped forward, and linking their arms together, started back up towards the pub, no longer able to resist the call of the of butterbeer and the warmth of the indoors.

* * *

“Budge up. I can’t see anything.” Someone grunted, trying to elbow the lanky boy next to them in order to get a better view through the snow-covered window.

“Not missing anything. There’s nothing to see.” He responded, though not looking away from the window, still searching for the two figures.

“Well, all I can see is the back of your ginger head, so I think I’d much prefer that view.” Added a third voice.

“George. Move!” Grunted another.

“I’m Fred.” The ginger boy shot back. “He’s even wearing a jumper with a giant G on the front of it.” He pointed his thumb towards his brother at the back of the group.

“You’re both wearing a jumper with a G on it.” Scoffed Lee, causing Fred to look down at his own chest. Lee was right; Fred was wearing Grace’s Weasley Christmas jumper, something she had graciously allowed him to borrow so long as it wasn’t for expressly nefarious purposes.

“Oh, right.”

Taking advantage of Fred’s brief distraction, Angelina and Alicia pushed themselves closer to the window.

“There they are.” Alicia whispered, pointing towards the couple huddled together in the corner of the bar. They watched as Grace giggled into her drink, laughing at some nonsense story Cedric was telling her.

“Pity we can’t hear anything.” Sighed Angelina. “I wonder what they’re talking about?” Lee and Alicia nodded along in agreement, noses pressed against the frosted glass as if that would allow them to hear the conversation.

To be honest, Fred couldn’t care less about what they were talking about; he was far more concerned with how close they were sitting and the fact that Grace’s cheeks seemed to be in a perpetual state of pink. They had chosen to sit next to each other on the bench, and Fred felt a pang of jealousy shoot through him every time their arms brushed.

“Freddie?” George whispered, causing Fred to turn around, schooling his features less his brother should know how truly annoyed he was feeling. Nodding his head, the two brothers separated from the group, George wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck to try and keep out the cold.

“You alright mate?” Asked George once they were far enough from their friends.

“Fine.” He shrugged, hoping that would be the end of it.

“It’s just.” He eyed his brother. “Feels like you aren’t”

Fred exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck and internally cursing his brother’s perceptiveness; George always knew what Fred was thinking, what he was feeling, and vice versa, they were just connected that way, had been since they were young children.

* * *

It had been a particularly hot summer and the Weasley children, those who were old enough to be left to their own devices, decided to go down to the pond to cool off. At the ripe old age of 7, the twins were already master mischief makers and decided to sneak off from their older brothers with the hopes of setting up a hilarious prank.

George was to stay close to the pond, just in sight of Bill and Charlie less they notice anything awry, as Fred went to their secret hiding spot to fetch a Zonko’s product that they had tampered with for optimal fun. Originally, when dropped in water, the small powder ball would change the colour of the water depending on the user’s preference, but the twins were able to finagle the charms to also stain the skin of whomever had the misfortune of swimming in it. And so, the plan was hatched to dye their brothers’ skin a most outrageous orange.

A few minutes after Fred left, George suddenly felt a sharp pain in his left leg, and crying out, looked down expecting to see a cut or something to explain the pain, but there was nothing there. Gingerly, he touched his leg, wincing at the pressure.

“George? You alright?” He looked up to see Bill swimming towards the edge of the pond, concern on his face. George head was heavy and he groaned as the pain in his leg seemed to only get worse. “What’s the matter?”

Bill lightly touched his brother’s leg, searching for the source of the pain, but finding none, called over Charlie and Percy.

“Fred.” George gritted as his brother’s hands continued to hover.

“Where is he?” Percy adjusted his spectacles as he looked around.

“He’s not here?” Asked Bill, raising his eyebrows as he pulled himself up on dry land.

“George, where’s Fred?” Charlie bent down and putting one of George’s arms around his shoulders, helped him to stand up, careful to not put any pressure on the hurting leg.

“He went to go get something from the hideout.”

“The hideout?” Questioned Percy.

“Where’s the hideout?” Interrupted Bill.

“’Bout a half mile that way.” George pointed towards the cluster of trees that marked the wooded end of the property.

“And what exactly do you have at this hideout?” Sneered Percy. Leave it to him to judge his brothers at a moment like this.

“Not now Percy.” Shot Charlie.

“Alright, come on.” Bill glanced down to George’s leg. “Can you walk?”

“Yeah, feels better.” He nodded.

As quickly as they could, the four boys made their way through the trees, George leading them through winding paths of thistles and fallen branches. As they got closer, George heard a soft cry, and took off running towards the noise, the others following just a bit behind.

Entering a small clearing they spotted Fred; he had propped himself up against a large tree, soft sobs escaping him as he clutched his broken and bloody leg to his chest, face red with tears.

“Fred!”

He looked up, and seeing his brothers, started to cry even harder.

“Fred, what happened?” Bill dropped to his knees besides him. “ _Episkey._ ” He pointed his wand at the cuts, watching as they started to stitch themselves back together. “Mum’ll do more once we get back.” He reassured Fred.

“I was climbing, to get our stash,” Fred sniffled, “and I guess I lost my footing or something, and the next thing I knew, I was falling. I was really scared, Bill.” Fred’s lip trembled a bit.

“I know.” He brushed his younger brother’s hair affectionally. “But were here. I’m gunna pick you up, alright?” Fred nodded, wiping a fresh tear from his cheek and smearing a bit of dirt in its place.

When they made it back to the house, Molly was beside herself, yelling at all five of them for acting irresponsibly, all equally guilty for Fred’s injury in her eyes. After sending George up to his room to keep a resting Fred company, she turned to the older boys.

“How did you three not notice he was gone? I told you to watch out for them, told you to keep an eye on both of them.” Bill made to respond, but Molly continued. “Honestly, imagine what could have happened if you didn’t realize he was gone until later, imagine if something worse than him just breaking his leg were to have happened.” She stopped and after taking a few calming breaths, moved to sit down at the table.

“I’m sorry mum. We should have paid more attention.” Bill apologized, Charlie and Percy nodding in agreement from behind him.

“We really are sorry.” Added Charlie.

“We should have been more responsible.” Agreed Percy.

“I feel awful.” Bill shook his head. “We didn’t even notice anything was wrong until George cried out.” The three boys made a face, remembering the terrible sound of their brother screaming out in pain.

“George?” Molly asked, looking between the three.

“It was so strange, mum.” Charlie took a seat well. “One minute he was sitting there, perfectly fine, then all of the sudden he cried out, clutching his leg. Like his leg was the one that was broken.”

“The same leg as Fred’s.” Interjected Percy.

“We checked him, but there was nothing there. And then he said Fred’s name, and that’s when we noticed that he was missing.”

There was a long pause as Molly considered what her sons told her, and memories of her own brothers flashed before her eyes.

“How’d it happen, Mum? How’d George feel it too?” Bill leaned forwards, pulling his mother from her thoughts with his questions.

“It’s a Prewett thing, I suppose.” She mumbled, her sons nodding along. “Sometimes, when identical twins are born into the Prewett line, they’re connected, magically.”

“Like, they share magic?” Charlie asked, eyes full of wonder.

“Yes. These twins, magical twins, they share a magical core, the thing in every witch or wizard that contains all of their magic.”

“And you think Fred and George are like that? That they’re magical twins?” Asked Bill.

“It was always a possibility.” A small but sad smile crossed her face. “My brothers thought they might be.”

“Fabian and Gideon? Then were they that too, magical twins?”

Molly nodded; “They were.”

“Guess it’s Fred and George’s turn now huh, to keep the Prewett legacy alive.” Charlie smiled, attempting to lighten the mood in the way only he could. Molly huffed, and smiled at her son, pinching his cheek as she moved to stand up, claiming that she needed to get started on supper if they wanted to start eating before midnight.

* * *

“I know you’re upset Forge; I can feel it.” George rolled his eyes. “And believe me, I don’t fancy the fact that pretty boy tends to be spending an awful lot of time with Gracie lately, but try not to be too bothered about it. All your brooding’s just making me feel worse.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Fred frowned. “It’s just weird isn’t it?”

“Grace needing friends other than us? I agree it’s quite strange, but we can’t fault her for it.” Laughed George.

“They wouldn’t even be hanging out it if weren’t for me.” Sighed Fred, taking a seat on a snow-covered bench, not minding the cold wet feeling. “They only started talking because the two of us were fighting.”

“Suppose it was bound to happen.” George looked back up towards the pub. Angelina, Alicia, and Lee had long since wandered away, having lost interest in watching a conversation they couldn’t hear, deciding to go to Honeydukes instead. “She is a girl after all.”

“Suppose you’re right.” Fred looked up as well. He enjoyed the silence for a few moments, enjoyed that it was just the two of them as they watched as the crowds of students and tourists passed them by. He was about to suggest that he and George ought to head to Zonko’s, they were in desperate need of a restock on a few of their favorite gags, when the door to the Three Broomsticks opened, revealing Grace and Cedric as they stepped out into the chilly air.

A fresh wave of jealousy shot through him, much strong than before, as he watched Grace rise to the tips of her toes and place a quick kiss on Cedric’s cheek. Beside him, he felt George bristle at the sight, both boys struggling to keep hold of their emotions. Finally, after what felt like a short eternity, they let out a sigh of relief as Grace waved goodbye to Cedric and started the long walk back towards the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope everyone has been having an absolutely fantastic holiday season! thank you again so much for reading!


	20. Curiosity Killed The Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The train leaves in an hour for the start of Grace's fourth year, and yet she's still packing, enjoying her last moments of summer.

The warm morning breeze fluttered the chiffon curtains as it made its way through the open window and into the large room, bringing with it the pleasant smell of the still blooming cherry plum tree just outside the window. Moxie, the small dopey-eyed house elf stood in the corner of the room, watched with mild concern as Grace fluttered back and forth, gently folding her cloths before placing them in the already over-stuffed trunk.

“Miss truly ought to let Moxie help.” Moxie mumbled from the corner, just loud enough for Grace to hear.

“Truly, I don’t need to.” Grace laughed, picking up the next item of clothing. “It’s only a few more things, just these two jumpers and then some accessories. And, I’ve handled it quite well up until this point, wouldn’t you say?”

Moxie simply shrugged in response, clearly displeased and continued muttering her dismay.

“Mistress would be quite upset,” the house elf cried under her breath, “seeing the young Miss doing this herself. Won’t even let Moxie help. What am I to do? If this were Mistr-”

“Moxie!” Grace nearly shouted, startling the elf, effectively cutting her off. “Have you got any more of that lemonade from yesterday, as well as those lavender biscuits. They really were good and I’d love to have some before we have to leave.”

A large grin broke across Moxie’s face.

“Oh yes!” She giggled. “I’ll bring Miss Grace some right way!”

With a snap of her fingers, the small elf disappeared and Grace let out a sigh of relief, finally free from the watchful eye of the well-meaning but intrusive elf.

Unceremoniously plopping herself on the bed, she picked up the final piece of unpacked clothing, holding it an arm’s length away to inspect it. Grace pulled at a bit of navy-blue thread that had gone loose around the collar, and not wanting to make it worse by trying to mend it with some unpracticed spell, wondered if she could ask Mrs. Weasley to fix it the next time she saw her.

It was Fred’s fault that the jumper was fraying; she had lent it to him so that he and George could play ‘Which Weasley’s Which?’ more effectively, and had gotten it snagged on a statue as they escaped two understandably irate 6th year Ravenclaws who had lost a great deal of money in the gamble. He was a bit sheepish when he returned it, but pointed out that the tear was hardly noticeable and would be covered completely when she wore her hair down. Despite his reassurances, Grace was still quite annoyed and spent a whole day contemplating cutting holes in his jumpers as revenge, before deciding instead to slip him a hiccough sweet at breakfast right before a match.

Simple, but effective.

A soft sound from the doorway pulled Grace from her thoughts.

“Back already?” She asked, turning her head, expecting to see the small elf with a tray full of biscuits and lemonade.

“Mum!” Grace jumped up, nearing throwing the jumper off the bed in her haste.

“Finished then, are we?” Dominque asked as she entered the room, her soft steps echoing on the marble floor, sky blue cape dragged behind her.

“Just about.” Grace smiled, quickly folding the jumper and dropping it into the trunk.

Dominque looked as bored as ever as she made her way around her daughter’s room, pursing her lips as she eyed the bright gold and crimson Gryffindor flag hung about the bed, lamenting how it clashed with the carefully chosen purple and silver scheme. It wasn’t just the flag that looked out of place in the ornate room, it was Grace; with her baggy jeans and bright patterned top, wand sticking out of her bun, she didn’t quite fit in.

“I don’t see why you have to take that.” Dominque looked down her nose at the navy knit jumper. “You have far better things to wear. That beautiful emerald green cashmere one your father and I got you for your birthday last year comes to mind.”

“And I love it!” Said Grace a little too strongly. “And I’ve packed it as well. Just like giving myself options.” She shrugged, watching out of the corner of her eye as her mother made her way closer.

“What is this?” Dominque asked, reaching inside the open velvet jewelry box laid out on the bed, removing from it the silver magpie hair pin.

“A hair pin?” Grace answered, reaching out to take back the pin from her mother.

“Don’t be coy.” She bit back, pulling the pin just out of Grace’s reach. “Where did you get it?”

“From some friends. For Christmas.”

“For Christmas?” Dominque raised an eyebrow. “Which friends?”

“It was from Fred and Georg-”

“Ah yes,” Dominque turned the pin over in her hand, “The Weasley’s. No wonder. It’s cheap.” Looking her daughter in the eye, she dropped the pin back in the box, snide smile on her face, and made her way to the door. “Hurry up. Your father and you will be late at this rate.”

“Father? What, are you not coming as well?” Grace said, crossing her arms and leaning against her trunk.

“No, I’m not. I have a meeting.”

“A meeting?” Grace scoffed. “What sort of meeting have you got on a Saturday at 11?”

With a speed Grace little saw in her mother, Dominque made her way across the room and stepping close, forced Grace to back into the wall.

“Are you my social secretary?” Dominque narrowed her eyes, a snarl on her lips. “Is it imperative that you know the ins and outs of my schedule?”

Grace looked away, refusing to make eye contact with her mother, not wanting to anger her further.

“Answer me!” Dominque demanded.

“No.” Grace muttered, still looking away.

“No.” She sneered. “You are my child. You only need know what I deem you ought to. Am I correct?”

“Yes.”

“Look at me Graciela.”

Despite now being a few inches taller than the woman, Grace couldn’t help but feel quite small as she looked down into her mother’s eyes, only momentarily looking away to see the abnormally short reddish-brown wand clutched in her right hand.

“Am I correct?”

“Yes.” Grace said, looking back into her mother’s eyes.

“Good girl.” Dominque smiled, and seemingly pleased with her daughter’s answer, tucked her wand back into her robe and moved towards the bedroom door.

“I suppose I was just curious.” Grace called out, causing Dominque’s steps to falter just shy of the doorway. “No harm in a bit of curiosity.”

For a moment it seemed as if Dominque would leave without uttering another word, but instead she turned, a flash of anger and annoyance settling on her face.

“Have you ever heard of that muggle saying, fond of muggles as you are?”

“Muggle saying?” Grace shook her head.

“Curiosity killed the cat.” Dominque enunciated every word, cutting the t sharply.

“Good thing I’m not a cat then.” Grace said, mimicking her mother’s tone.

“Quite.” Dominque smiled, and with a flourish of her cape, turned out of the room and down the hall.

The summer breeze rustled the chiffon curtains once more, but even the sweltering heat of September could do nothing to warm the chill that had settled over the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow... have i really been gone that long? so sorry about that...  
> i decided to pick up a part time job to make some money on the side, and between that and school, i haven't had much time for anything else, much less writing anything fun.  
> thank you so much for the comments and continued support during my brief hiatus. it's nice to be back!  
> more to come soon...  
> promise.


	21. To The Ones Who Come Before Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The highest of highs often lead to the lowest of lows, and for Fabian and Gideon, this is proven all too true. A brief conversation with Hermione helps Grace on her quest to figure out exactly what a triad is.

“Well, you’re late.” Grace chided, watching with amusement as the twins attempted to squeezed into the nearly full compartment, stumbling a little as the train lurched forwards.

“Suppose we are.” Said Fred, plopping down in the empty seat besides Lee.

“Bit of a hectic morning.” Added George, taking the seat across from his brother and next to Grace. “Surprised we made it at all with the six of us.”

“Six?” Asked Alicia, looking up from painting her nails.

“I knew there were a lot of Weasleys,” added Angelina, “but I didn’t know there were that many.”

“Have you got another brother hidden away somewhere?” Joke Lee, offering the twins each some muggle sweets out of a Tesco shopping bag.

“Can we count Harry?” Fred asked his brother, taking a big bite into the banana flavored taffy, pleasantly surprised by the taste of it.

“If we must.” Responded George, shrugging his shoulders as he dug through the bag, pulling out an orange and black chocolate.

“Harry Potter?” Their fellow fourth-years asked.

“Who else?”

“Why did Harry Potter come with you lot to the station? Hasn’t he got his muggle family to take him?” Lee asked.

Fred rolled his eyes and crossing his arms, sunk further into the train bench. “Some family.” He huffed. Realizing that his brother wasn’t going to explain further, George told them all about Harry’s so-called family; how they treated him, punishing him and putting bars on his window, hoping to prevent him from going back to Hogwarts this year.

“So, we rescued him, in dad’s old Ford Anglia.” Finished George. “Got in a bit of trouble for it of course, but when mum realized why we did it, she was a bit more forgiving.”

“How terrible!” Gasped Grace.

“I can’t believe it!” Said an equally appalled Angelina.

“You two flew that car?” Lee excitedly asked, far more eager to hear about how the two of them flew their dad’s magic car rather than the reason behind flying it.

“Oh Lee,” Fred started, a bit too loudly, “you should have seen it, mate. It was wicked. Always wanted to mess about with it, never had the chance though.” Fred looked up, and seeing disappointed looks from both Alicia and Angelina, lowered his voice so only Lee could hear, continuing to brag about their renegade adventure.

* * *

Catching sight of the young bushy-haired girl exiting the Great Hall, flanked on either side by Ron and Harry, Grace called out, hoping to get her attention even in the bustling morning crowd.

“Hey Hermione!” Startled, the three turned around, Hermione clutching her comically large stack of books closer to her chest as Grace ran towards then, leaving behind a set of confused twins. Fred and George moved to follow, but she waved them off, promising to meet them in class later.

“Morning.” Grace smiled, coming to a stop before the three second years. Deciding the she ought to get down to business, Hermione would no doubt be put off if she were late to class, she continued.

“You’re exceptionally clever,” Grace started, causing Hermione to blush ever so slightly, Ron to roll his eyes, and Harry to nod in agreement, “and I was wondering if you’ve ever stumbled across anything in your reading, anything about hereditary magic?”

“What’s that?” Asked Harry.

“Magic that passes down in a family, that only they can do.” Responded Ron, quite pleased to answer Harry’s question before Hermione had the chance.

“Allegedly.” Hermione scolded, rolling her eyes. “There’s hardly any proof it really exists, and whether or not magic can be tied to a single-family line is questionable at best.”

“What about being a Pareltou-” Ron started.

“But you must have read about it.” Interrupted Grace. “Somewhere. Someone who spends as much time in the library as yourself must have come across something.”

“Why do you need to know?” Asked Harry.

“Class, History of Magic.” Grace answered with practiced ease. “Got a paper on it and I find myself a bit lacking in the subject.”

“I suppose,” Hermione thought for a moment “there was something in one book I read late last year; only about three pages or so. It was called _From Alchemy to Sorcery: Uncommon Conceptions of Witchcraft in the Late Renaissance_.”

“Sounds like a riot.” Grimaced Ron, making a sour face which Harry copied.

“It was quite informative.” Shushed Hermione.

“Great!” Grace cried. “I’ll check it out this afternoon. Now why don’t you three scurry off; don’t want to keep you any longer than I already have.”

Tugging her bag closer to her body, Grace shouted her thanks as she made her way down the hall towards the dungeon, well aware that no matter how fast she ran she would be late for potions.

“Can anyone have hereditary magic?” Asked Harry, as the three of started their track towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

“I’m not sure.” Shrugged Hermione. “I suppose they could, but it’s only ever been tied to pure-blooded families. But that could just be because none of the authours of these books wanted to admit that anyone of a different blood-status could be just as gifted as a pure-blood.”

“Has your family got hereditary magic, Ron?” Asked Harry, looking over Hermione’s head towards his slightly taller friend.

“Don’t think so.” He answered uninterestedly. “Though,” Ron stopped, causing Harry who was attempting to match his strides to Ron’s, to trip, stumbling slightly on the uneven stone staircase, “I think my Uncles might’ve, my mum’s brothers. I remember hearing dad saying something about it to Bill, about the Prewetts, when I was little.” Ron started walking again. “But I suppose that doesn’t matter now.”

“Why?” Asked Harry, genuinely interested.

“’Cuz they’re dead. There are no Prewetts left.”

* * *

_July 12, 1981_

Fabian and Gideon had arrived at the Burrow quite early that July afternoon, with the intention of enjoying lunch with their sister, but rather had been roped into babysitting duty, not that they were complaining. Molly was holding Ron with one arm, the other being used to set the table for tea as she lazily flicked her wand. Her brothers had been trying to convince her to sit down, she was eight months pregnant after all, but having insisted that she kept plenty busy while she was pregnant with her other children and that she could manage just fine, they acquiesced and she continued to flutter about.

So instead, as she moved around the kitchen, her brothers were tasked with entertaining Fred and George, both of whom were incredibly interested in their identical counterparts.

“You know Molly, I know they’re Weasleys and all that, but these two definitely take after the Prewett side of the family.” Smiled Gideon, bouncing a jubilant Fred on his knee. Molly remembered when Fabian and Gideon were that age, and she had to agree that Fred and George were the near spitting image of them.

“Don’t I know it. Personality too.” Huffed Molly, blowing a bit of fringe off her slightly sweaty brow. She shifted Ron to her other hip and took a seat at the table, eager to enjoy the fruits of her labour. She took a bite into her egg salad sandwich, and her face fell a bit as she chewed.

“What?” Asked Fabian, tucking a napkin in George’s shirt, a feeble attempt to keep the child clean through the meal. “Is it not sitting right, the food?”

Molly patted her round stomach, “No, no, the foods fine.” She set her sandwich down. “Do you think they’re like you?”

Fabian and Gideon looked at each other; it would be a lie to say they hadn’t thought about it, magical twins had existed in the Prewett family for a millennium, but their prevalence had been declining for near a century.

“I can’t say.” Said Fabian, wiping a bit of egg of George’s face.

“They might be,” continued Gideon, “though you’d never know ‘till they meet that person.”

“Mmm.” Molly looked between her twins, blissfully happy children playing with their food.

“It’s not so bad if they are, Molls. They’d get to have a soulmate. Makes them luckier than most.” Molly smiled at Fabian, he always knew the right thing to say to her, to cheer her up and to offer support. She thought of Marlene and how well she and her brothers fit together; their love for each other was obvious, and she supposed Fred and George could do worse than to find someone who loved them just as much as that.

“And anyway, it might not even be your kids.” Gideon cooed at Fred, the young redhead’s response being to happily smack his uncle on the nose, causing them both to sport matching grins.

Fabian glared at his brother; for all of Gideon’s good, there was an equal number of faults, and being unable to keep a secret was definitely one of them. But, seeing the large smile that was spread across his brother’s face, Fabian sighed, and looking at Molly, shrugging, his face falling into the same giddy smile.

“You don’t mean?”

Gideon nodded his head.

“You can’t be serious?”

Gideon nodded his head once more.

Molly screamed and nearly knocking Ron over as she stood up, rushed across the room to hug her brothers, and grabbing their cheeks, littered them with wet kisses. Ron started crying, upset from the commotion, and Arthur ran in, clearly flustered, wand raised.

“Is everything all right? Is the baby coming?”

“Oh Arthur!” Molly removed herself from her brothers’ arms, hugging her husband close. Gently patting his wife on the back, he raised his eyebrows at the laughing men.

“We just told her some good news.” Gideon threw his left arm over his brother’s shoulder, and puffing out his chest, placed his hand over his heart. “Marlene is pregnant.”

“What?” Shouted Arthur, causing Ron to start crying once again.

Fred and George however were having the time of their lives; they were quite enjoying the loud noises and the adults were far too focused in their own worlds to notice the fun, and mess, they were having. Arthur bent down and scooped up his son, shushing in his ear to stop the crying and made his way to his brother-in-laws, patting them on the back in congratulations.

“Well, where’s Marlene? Why isn’t she here to tell us herself?” Molly sat back down, as if suddenly realizing she was heavily pregnant, having exhausted most of her limited energy from jumping up and down in celebration.

“She’ll be here later; she had to stop by her parents to pick up a few things, baby things her mum got us right after we told her. Wanted us to head over without her.” Fabian sat back down as well, overwhelmed with emotions; his skin tingling with what he assumed was excitement.

“Not that we're pleased about that, her being on her own.” Added Gideon. “But she can handle herself, and I suppose it’s better to have fewer people pass through the wards, with everything going on.”

“And Gideon here wasn’t exactly supposed to let it slip.” Fabian sighed, sipping on his, until now, ignored iced tea. “We were going to wait until Marlene got here to tell you, but I supposed that’s all in the past now.”

“What can I say? I’m excited.”

Gideon was excited, possibly more than Fabian and Marlene combined. Not that they weren’t thrilled about the pregnancy, of course they were, but they were both afraid; being on the front lines in a war didn’t afford them the sense of security one would hope for when they thought about raising a child. Gideon, on the other hand, had always dreamed of being a father, and despite the world being as it was, he couldn’t bring himself to think about anything other than how happy he was that his wish was coming true.

“Oh, it’ll be so lovely. Your child, or children,” she winked, “and this little one will go to Hogwarts together. Oh, it’s just wonderful, I’m so pleased for you three.” Molly continued to talk, sniffling here and there as she attempted to keep her emotions in check.

Fabian sat back, smiling as his brother and sister chatted about the pregnancies; all “if you need any babysitters, Bill would be willing, he’s had more than enough practice,” and “four months? You waited a whole four months to tell me?” Despite the enjoyable atmosphere, unease washed over him as his skin continued to prickle, becoming almost painful, and his stomach upset as if he had just taken a poorly charmed portkey.

Gideon stopped talking, his boisterous voice cut off by a sharp pain in his side. The pain passed as quickly as it came; once it was gone, he stood up and pulled out his wand.

“ _Expecto Patronum._ Find Marlene.” The silvery-blue orb zoomed out the Burrow’s kitchen window.

“What’s the matter?” Molly asked, wobbling to stand up, Arthur reaching out to steady her.

“I’m not sure, I jus-.” Fabian’s voice cut off as the colour drained from his face, and he fell to the floor grasping at his chest as he gasped in pain. Molly looked to Gideon, his hands were clutching the table so hard she feared it might splinter beneath his grip, shaking as he tried to catch his breath.

“What’s going on, what’s happening? Arthur!” Both Weasleys stood still, too shocked to do much of anything other than stare.

Gideon let out a heart wrenching scream as the threw his head back, falling to his knees with a thud, hands still gripping the table as if it were the only thing holding him together. A small sob escaped Fabian as he continued to claw at his chest, eyes flittering back and forth as he desperately searched for something that wasn’t there. It felt as if their bodies were on fire and their hearts were splitting in two. The pain was unbearable; they both were on the verge of passing out as they desperately tried to do something, anything.

“Marlene!” Fabian choked out, tears staining the floor beneath him, trying in vain to pull his wand from his left pant pocket. With a final yell, both men fell completely to the ground, their energy drained; the pain was gone, but in its place was an empty feeling, cold and cavernous.

Molly and Arthur moved forward, finally overcoming their shock, and Molly unceremoniously dropping to the floor to hug one brother, Arthur doing the same to the other. Gideon softly wept into Molly’s arms as she shushed him, running her hand over his back.

“Gideon, what is it? What’s happened?” He looked up at his dear sister, eyes void of their usual mirthful shine.

“I can’t feel her.” He turned to his brother. “Fabian?”

Fabian was pulling himself up off the ground, refusing Arthur’s help as he did so, and looked around the room, realizing they had a larger audience than before. Bill, Charlie, and Percy had all been playing outside, but the yelling and commotion had frightened them, and they ran inside just in time to see their uncles fall to the floor.

Fabian shook his head and taking out his wand, said “ _Tribus,_ ” the dimly flickering light changed from orange to yellow before fading out of existence. Reaching for his brother, he pulled Gideon to his feet and out of Molly’s grasp, apparating the both of them out of the Burrow’s kitchen, leaving behind the shocked Weasley family.

They arrived back to the Burrow late that night, long after the children had been put to sleep, the darkness of the night, for a brief moment, shielding them from their sorrows. As the stepped into the warm light of the house, Molly gasped, clutching Arthur for support as she took them in. Their clothing was covered in dirt and soot, torn and burnt in some places. Their faces’ tear stained, red and puffy as if they had been crying for hours, and they carried themselves like defeated soldiers on the long retreat after a lost battle.

Molly rushed forward, reaching out to her brothers, and pulled them into a tight hug that they hardly returned, still in their own little world.

“What is it? What’s happened?” She cried, pulling back to look into their dull eyes, the sparkle of life gone from them.  
Fabian answered, his chocked sob all but blown away by the evening wind, but still, Arthur could just make out the muttered words.

“She’s gone. She’s gone.”

* * *

_From Alchemy to Sorcery: Uncommon Conceptions of Witchcraft in the Late Renaissance_ sat open on Grace’s bed, illuminated only by the small light at of the tip of her wand, dulled as to not wake her roommates at the late hour. Hermione had been right; the book didn’t give much information about hereditary magic and the author, a Duellen MacMillian, clearly held strong some blood supremist ideals, often reflected in his words. It did mention Parseltongue, the innate ability of some wizards to communicate with snakes, and how it was tied to the decedents of Salazar Slytherin, but questioned whether the ability would be lost to the ages if wizards were to continue to _“join with the muggle race.”_

“What a bunch of hippogriff shit.” Whispered Grace, pushing the large tome away from her and leaning back, closed her eyes as she rested her head on the wall behind her. Only having read two pages of the over 1000 page book, Grace couldn’t imagine how Hermione had read all of it, especially if the rest of the tome was written in the same manner.

Working up the ability to wade once more through the authour’s antiquated opinions, Grace leaned forward, pulling the large book towards her and flipping to the final page on hereditary magic.

 _“Of course, while we are aware, through second-hand stories and the words of our most respected members of society,”_ Grace rolled her eyes, _“that hereditary magic has existed, one must question whether or not in our modern world hereditary magic still truly exists. Some modern examples of hereditary magic are unreliable at best, and some of the most notable families previously known to be in possession of hereditary magic, the Rosier and Prowse, have either lost their abilities, or have deemed them too important to be further publicized to the world.”_

“That’s it?” Grace asked, as if the tome might be able to respond. “Seriously.”

With a huff she pointed her wand at the book and mumbled “ _Revelio,”_ hoping but not expecting anything to appear; and nothing did. Angerly she shut the book slightly harder than she meant to, and cringed as she looked around the room, hoping the sound didn’t disturbed either of her sleeping friends. When the only movement was Angelina pulling her pillow closer towards her chest, Grace let out a sigh of relief. She picked up the tome and moving to place the book back into her bag, she noticed something shimmering on the cover she hadn’t seen before.

“ _Lumos Pica.”_ She pointed the dimed light towards the cover and read the small golden script not there just moments before.

_“To answer your question, one might be inclined to ask directly from the source. Sincerely, Duellen Siagrd MacMillian.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really enjoyed writing the section on Fabian and Gideon, i love their trio dynamic, as it is in my head, and i'm looking forward to showing how the Prewett brothers and Fred and George continue to parallel each other. that being said, it kinda hurt to write that section.  
> thank you for all the love on this work; it genuinely means the world to me.  
> i make no promises when i'll next post, that didn't work out too well for me last time, but do know that i am working on the next chapter as we speak.  
> cheers :)


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